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Her Billionaire Royals Series:
The Heir
The Crown
The Duke
The Duke’s Brother
The Prince
The American
The Spy
The Princess
Her Billionaire Cowboys Series:
Her Billionaire Cowboy
Her Billionaire Protector
Her Billionaire in Hiding
Her Billionaire Christmas Secret
Her Billionaire to Remember
Taming Scrooge
Sophia Summers
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Ezra Stone held the phone between his shoulder and his cheek, crumpling each page of a thirty-page request for money and tossing it into the trash can. So far his attempts at sinking a wastepaper basketball was zero for five. With each miss he grew more irritated, and the overly saccharine voice on the phone did not help his mood.
“You know, Mr. Stone, the town relies completely on Christmas sales to carry them through the year. Our Main Street shops are a big part of that.”
Why would this matter to him? How many people made poor business choices so that other people could continue to make even poorer ones? Was it his fault the town refused to diversify? Why not apple picking in the fall? Fruit in the summer, the festival of the lavender or some other thing. Why did they have to do the Christmas thing all year long? “I’ll have my team look over your proposal and you’ll receive information from us some time next month,” Ezra told the woman.
“But the city council meets in a week.”
Again, not his problem. “That’s the soonest I can have anyone look it over.” He threw the last page of her document across the room. It sailed in a beautiful arc and landed in the center of the can. Victory. “Thank you for your interest in Heart and Stone developing.” He clicked off the phone and rotated his neck. He had little patience for anyone who would complain about all the business, the money, the tourists he was bringing to their town. Whatever small issues they had with the resort now, they would thank him a million times later when their bottom line rose by a zero or two.
“Who names a town Sanders Corners?”
His secretary, Joy, stood in the doorway. She lived in town, he didn’t. He was just here for the project and then he planned to leave right away. She had blunt opinions about most everything, which he endured because she was so dang good at her job. And she was old enough to be his mother, acted as such from time to time. It was a temporary situation. They’d all only be there as long as the project lasted.
Her eyebrow raised. “Sanders Corners was named after the developer who first moved here. Joe Sanders.”
He could tell she thought he could have nothing to say to that, some kind of developer code or something, but he shrugged. “You don’t see anyone naming towns after me.”
Her eyes widened and she shrugged as if to say, I’m sure they have their reasons, and then looked away.
He knew what she was thinking. Because everyone hated him after he developed their town. They would thank him later, or some of them would. “No one wants to give up Main Street in Sanders Corners, but they want the money, don’t they? Well, we need Main Street, Joy, or the whole plan for the new slope won’t work. We can run a lift straight from a resort right in the center of Main and First Street. People could ski down and sit in their private hot tubs.” He didn’t really care what Mrs. Ingles thought, except he did. He respected her.
“You and a hotel owner’s creative plan to earn another several million will not win any friends in this town.”
“And what if I’m not in the business of winning friends?”
She placed a new folder on his desk and turned to walk out, calling back over her shoulder, “The tree farm called. They have your tree ready.”
He sputtered into his mug. “What?”
“They donate a live tree to every business in town, and I guess they didn’t think you were too evil to merit one.” She laughed as she walked down the hall.
He buzzed her phone.
“Yes?”
“What if I don’t want their tree?”
“Why wouldn’t you want it? Comes decorated. It will look lovely by my desk in the front entry.”
He sighed.
“Honestly, and I mean this. You can’t make everybody your enemy here. I’d go pick it up and thank them. And I’d do it yourself.”
She was right, of course. But he didn’t want a tree. He didn’t want a live tree, or a decorated one. The pine needles, the mess, watering the dang thing. He’d just as soon skip over the whole holiday. “I’ll go pick it up.”
“You won’t regret it. Ask for Star.”
He snorted. “Star?”
“Yes, Star Henley, owner’s daughter.”
He disconnected the call and grabbed his truck keys. Major pain. That’s what this gift should be called. What if he didn’t own a truck? What if he drove a Smart car and this gift forced him to rent a larger vehicle? Giving a person a decorated live Christmas tree was like giving them a new puppy. More trouble than it was worth. What if he didn’t want the dang thing? And he didn’t. He grumbled and grouched all the way to the truck. Star Henley. Who named their daughter Star? Certainly not anyone he cared to know.
Chapter 2
Star Henley adjusted her work gloves. She and four other of her father’s employees were moving two hundred trees from the back lot up to the front area for the lot’s lit Christmas tree alley. Plus, they had to collect more from the west lot for the town’s Festival of Trees.
Her father beeped her on the radios.
“What is it, dad?”
“We’ve got customers coming in. Let Clint handle all that.”
“I just want to make sure they grab the right trees. We want the best.”
“I know, and Clint knows.”
She pulled off her gloves and put the truck in reverse. The light reflected off her hanging ornament on the rearview mirror. Someone had given her a crystal nativity, Mary, Joseph, the baby in a beautiful threesome. She loved it. It hung there all year and whenever she felt worried, crazy, rushed or stressed, the scene brought her peace. In addition to helping her dad at the family Christmas tree lot, she owned the Christmas Shoppe in town. A whole section of her store held a museum quality crèche exhibit, from almost every culture in the world. People came to tour it all through the month of December.
She drove in from the back groves. Her father was always trying to keep her off the manual labor kinds of jobs. He wanted her to take over the whole operation. But she hesitated.
Her store in town—The Christmas Shoppe. She had one of the few Christmas stores in the country that was open all year round. People came from all over to buy from her. She collected unique pieces from international suppliers. f she took over the tree farm and store, she wasn’t sure she could manage it all. And besides, as much as she loved Sanders Corners, it might be time for her to move on, do more with her life, set a good manager in place and get her MBA. But leaving the store meant leaving her mother’s dream, her creation. There was the problem. She couldn’t desert her mother’s love and life even after she was gone. Star felt her mo
ther’s footprint there more than anywhere else. This new developer swooping in and threatening to relocate her store would have her mom in a panicked frenzy and picketing town square besides.
She pulled into the parking lot just as another truck entered, the same truck as hers, same color, possibly the same year. They entered spots, side by side. She hopped out grinning and moved around the front. “I see you have excellent taste in vehicles.”
Thick dark hair stepped out of the other truck, and a pair of stark green eyes met hers.
He closed the door, his firm, defined jawline, broad shoulders and thick legs had her looking longer than usual. Definitely not from around here. She would have noticed, and then heard about him from every other female in town.
She waited. He still hadn’t answered her. “I like your truck.” She smiled.
He stepped nearer, finishing up a text on his phone. Then he stopped, his gaze travelled over her face, lingering in her eyes. “You are a woman of impeccable taste. This truck goes everywhere with me.”
“It’s the best model. And color.”
“Ah, a woman who appreciates a good truck.”
His nearness warmed her and drew her in. She wanted to step into his space, the bubble reserved for intimacy, just to feel the pull of attraction she knew would come.
He leaned against the front of his truck. “I like the tires, their roughness; they hug the road.” His words cascaded over her like a caress. His eyes never left her. His attention, his focus, shivered up her spine. Who was this man?
Two could play his game. “And the smooth ride, the acceleration.” She stepped closer, just enough. “He’s never let me down.”
“He?”
“Sure, is your truck a she?”
He lifted his chin. “Ah, could be. She handles like a woman, just right in my hands…” He burst out laughing. “This is fun, but I’m not as good at it as I’d like to be.”
She felt her face heat. “It helps that we both love our vehicles.”
“True, and I do appreciate a woman with good taste in trucks.” His eyes shone with approval.
“Are you here for the winter festivities? You’ll fit right in with that truck, though people might mistake it for mine.”
“What? No, I’m not…I won’t attend, I’m sure. Christmas isn’t my thing.” The spell broke. He pulled out his phone again. “Look, I’m here to pick up a tree I didn’t even ask for. What a hassle. Do you know the owner? I’m supposed to meet someone named Star.”
His tone rippled through her like an icy wind, dousing the attraction.
“Follow me.” She whipped around and led him to the office.
The door jingled when they entered, but the warmth and cinnamon chocolate in the air didn’t have the usual cheery effect. Why be grumpy this time of year? Especially at a tree farm. A hassle? Her hand picking a beautiful tree and decorating it for him was a hassle.
Her dad smiled when they entered. “Ah, Mr. Stone?”
Stone. The Stone? Evil developer guy Stone?
Her Dad, all smiles, held out his hand. “I’m happy you could come. We took extra care with your tree.”
“Thank you. I understand this is a long-time Sanders Corners tradition.”
Her father stood taller, and Star felt sick inside. Ezra Stone, the developer who was just a few weeks away from putting her out of business—her Christmas store stood right in the center of the area where he planned his resort. The city council hadn’t yet approved the spot, but she feared they would. The millions he was putting into his project would bring significant income into their town. None of them dared cross Mr. Stone, afraid he’d back out entirely. She’d prefer if he did. But she was in the minority there.
She turned to glare at him. “Mr. Stone. I’ll take you to your tree.” Everyone hoped that by rolling out the red carpet when things were still under discussion, they could influence his decisions about how much of their original Main Street to leave intact. Members of the city council in town had encouraged the Henleys to ensure that Mr. Stone received one of their traditional trees as well.
The crunch under his boots signaled he was following her across the lot to the front walkway. “We put it up here so it should be easy enough to load into your truck.” She turned to him and was surprised how closely he stood. “Oh.” She backed away.
His eyes lit with interest. “Ezra.” He held out his hand.
She nodded. “So I heard. I’ll wait here until you bring the truck around before I give you care instructions for the tree.”
His face darkened and then he nodded.
As soon as he pulled up and hopped back out, she told him how often it should be watered and then backed up, hoping he would load the tree and go.
“It’s still in a pot.” His forehead wrinkled.
“Yes, we give all the owners a potted tree and they keep it alive through the holiday and then plant it in town.”
“You want me to plant it, too?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You may have noticed all the evergreens…We win awards for being the city with the most trees every year.” Most of which he would be cutting down if he built where he planned.
“Ah, admirable.” Then he faced the tree. “So, I’m to grab it around the middle and hoist it in the truck then?”
“Yes. Now, if that’s all, I should be getting back to work.”
He reached into the decorated boughs and her heart pinged just a tiny amount in sympathy. Balls fell and clattered down around him, his whole arm lost in the decorated greenery. It wasn’t easy, and she did want the tree to stay intact for the short drive. “Look, I’ll call Colton up here to help you.”
“Yes, you’d better.” When he pulled his hand back out, he pinched his fingers together and released them, the adhesive obvious.
She smirked. Sap was a bear to wash off.
“This soon becomes more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Pardon me?”
“This giving of the tree thing. I appreciate the help loading. But no one will be there unloading.” He seemed to stop himself, but his irritation was obvious.
“Well, I suppose our apologies are in order.”
He waved his hand. “It’s ok, I understand tradition and all that. Look, I’ll try to load it and we’ll make sure someone plants it afterward.” He reached his hand back in and started sliding the tree closer to the back of the truck.
Colton arrived, threw burlap over the top, wrapped it securely, and then he and another man hefted the tree up into the truck.
Mr. Stone nodded. “Thanks.” He climbed up into his truck. Then his appraising glance returned. “I’m here for the duration of the build. Wanna go to dinner sometime?”
“What?” The word, her tone, escaped her lips before she could stop it. “Are you asking me out?”
He grinned, a smile that she guessed women melted over. “I am, you free?”
“No, I’m not.” Was he for real?
His face became a mask, then he nodded. “Good enough. Thanks again.” His truck door closed, and he pulled out of the parking lot.
Clinton clucked his tongue, watching him pull away. “Wait, is he driving your truck?”
She groaned. “No. He has the same one.” Too bad such a remarkable looking man with great taste in trucks was so ungrateful, involved in destroying her town and her store and entirely void of holiday spirit.
Chapter 3
Ezra drove through town on his way back from the tree farm. Charming place. He corrected—charming woman. Icy, but enticing. He didn’t miss her face when she heard his name. She hated him.
He let air leave him in a long slow breath. What a pity the first girl he’d been interested in for years, the first girl to capture his attention like she had, loathed him. Of course, she was someone his development would damage most. Even though her eyes had lit with her own attraction, the two of them were on a path of destruction and could never even hope to make anything work. He pulled into his office parking lot and
called Joy. “I need some hands to take this thing upstairs.”
“It’s here? I’m so excited! Is it beautiful? Star does such good work.”
“Yeah, it’s great. Can you send a couple of the guys down?”
He left it in the truck bed and made his way upstairs.
His phone rang. “Dad?” His gut clenched.
“Ezra. You closing this deal?”
“Almost there. Meeting in a week, but it’s just a formality. They’ve all agreed how they’ll vote. All but one.” Star’s dad. He wouldn’t cave. He couldn’t see how the resort would benefit his tree business if all his paying customers were out of their businesses. Ezra had to give him that. An accurate assessment. But the town would be centered around a new business. If the tree farm owner could diversify and change, he could benefit greatly from all the people Ezra would be bringing into his town.
“Go after that guy. Pressure, threats. Start buying up his suppliers. Whatever it takes. The others say they are voting one way now, but they could change their vote last minute. I’ve seen it happen. If anyone on the committee is weak, it will destroy the whole group.
“Hound them. Work with them. Convince them day and night until after the vote. I’ve dealt with these types of people for years. They promise things but then their families get to them, their wives, tradition. They become weak-minded and make poor business choices.”
Ezra nodded. “I know, father. They would be stupid not to move forward.”
“People do stupid things all the time.”
Ezra silently conceded his father was right. But it was their land and their town after all. “Plan B works. I drafted the plans and worked up the financials just in case.”
“There is no plan B.” His father’s thundering voice reverberated through his brain.
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