The Irishman's Christmas Gamble: A Wager of Hearts Novella

by Nancy Herkness

  “And that is the perfect introduction to why I lured you out here alone,” Liam said, holding both her hands in his. He took a deep breath and locked his deep blue gaze on her face. “These last ten months have been the best of my life. Seeing you and Owen together—” She watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed against some powerful emotion. “—has brought me a joy beyond all my dreams.”

  After Frankie’s panic attack at Paddy’s Pub, Liam had backed off and let Frankie come to know Owen at her own pace. They’d started with a trip to the Museum of Natural History, neutral territory with no triggers. Once she and Owen got on the subject of chemistry, their relationship progressed smoothly.

  Now Owen regularly visited with her in the Bellwether Club’s kitchen to concoct new flavors of chocolate and other more volatile chemical combinations. The chef viewed their presence with trepidation, but Frankie loved seeing what experiments the boy’s agile mind created, even if they occasionally exploded.

  Frankie squeezed Liam’s hands. “You were right…Owen and I are kindred spirits.” She loved to watch Liam with his son too. The bond between the two of them had grown strong now that Liam spent so much time with Owen. He was one lucky kid.

  Liam’s grip tightened. “So there is no reason why we shouldn’t officially become a family.” With all the graceful control of a well-conditioned athlete, he sank onto one knee, his face tilted up to hers. “I remember the day we met. My soccer ball was about to be mashed by a car, when you darted into the street and kicked it back to me. I fell in love with you in that moment.”

  Frankie’s heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest to say “yes”, but she wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “That was gratitude, not love, ye right eejit. I’d saved your most precious possession.”

  “I should have known you’d ruin my heartfelt speech,” he said, amusement and exasperation in his eyes. “Have you no romance in your soul at all?”

  “I’m an American. We like to get to the point.”

  “All right then.” All the amusement left his expression and he took another deep breath. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  Her heart seemed to beat in her throat, so it was hard to speak. “Yes.”

  There was a moment of silence before he said, “That’s all? Just yes?”

  “Did I not wake up in your bed this morning and tell you that I loved you and then proceed to demonstrate just how much? Did I not tell you ten minutes ago that I wanted to go back to the jet, strip naked, and make love for the entire flight back to New York?” She softened her voice. “Do I need to tell you again that I adore you with everything in me?”

  “I never tire of hearing it.”

  “Stand up, and I’ll show you.”

  “I’m not finished.” He released her hands and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a black velvet box. He flipped the lid open and drew out a ring, holding out his hand for hers. “It’s an emerald, Frankie,” he said as he slid it on, the brush of his long fingers sending a shiver of warmth up her arm. “Because no matter how bad it was, Ireland was where we started. Even more important, Ireland is where I fell irrevocably in love with you.”

  She brushed her fingertips down his cheek, marveling at the way the boy had changed—and not changed—into the man. Wondering how she had inspired the kind of love that burned bright and true through the years of separation. Knowing that she had carried him in her heart through all that time too.

  “The emerald is exactly right,” she said, as the deep green gem glowed in a slant of sunlight. “I’ve learned to be proud of where I came from because it brought me you.”

  He rose in the same way he’d knelt…with perfect efficiency in every muscle. It gave her pleasure simply to watch him move.

  “I tried to guess how I’d feel at this moment,” he said, cradling her face in his big hands. “But I had no idea that I would feel not just joy, but peace. Finglas is where I lived but you were always my home. And now I’m where I belong…with you.”

  He touched his lips to hers with such tenderness that tears brimmed in her eyes, spilling over as her eyelids closed to savor the feel of his body against hers. His soft, firm mouth grazed the wet streaks on her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry, a stór,” he murmured against her skin, his breath a caress. “We’ve earned our happiness.”

  “You’ve made me feel again, so you’ll have to take the tears as part of that.” She opened her eyes and ran her fingers through the gleaming waves of his auburn hair, touching the glint of silver at his temple. “Let’s get married as soon as we get back to New York. I know a judge or two.”

  “Oh, no, my lovely jackeen. We’re getting married in St. Patrick’s Cathedral. And you’re going to invite all your billionaire friends. I want the world to know that you’re mine at long last.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but saw the steel in his eyes. She felt the glow of satisfaction at his desire to claim her publicly. “I’m not so well acquainted with the archbishop.”

  “Ah, but I am. He’s a soccer fan.”

  Frankie laughed. Liam had fulfilled his prophecy of building a soccer team that galvanized New York City. The upstart Challenge had clinched a spot in the playoffs the week before, and the city was buzzing with excitement. “You’d better win the MLS Cup then.”

  The steel was still there when he said, “I intend to.”

  The raw determination in his voice sent a streak of heat flashing through her. She wove her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down for a searing kiss, then leaned back against his arms. It seemed a good time to discuss the idea she’d been considering. “Speaking of soccer—”

  “Soccer? What’s soccer?” His gaze scorched over her as he started to pull her close again.

  She wedged her arms between them. “Good. I’ve got you in the right frame of mind.”

  “You mean you’ve blown my mind to bits.” He loosened his hold with a sigh of resignation.

  “You remember how lonely you were when you went away to the training academy and lived in the dormitory?”

  “I try not to.” But he nodded.

  “I was thinking that we might bring some of the talented Irish kids from Finglas and similar neighborhoods over here to train. Except we’ll have them live with us, now that you’re making an honest woman of me. That way they’ll have a family environment, even though they’re far from home.”

  Liam went still against her for a long moment before his words seemed to burst from him. “Jaysus, Joseph, and Mary, you can still surprise me.” He picked her up like she was a mere girl and spun around in a circle before he gave her a smacking kiss on the lips. “I should know that it’s all or nothing with you. You took to Owen, so now you want a whole herd of kids. I love you for it.”

  “It still hurts me that I can’t give you children,” she said, the truth of it making her stomach clench. “But I’m learning to believe that you can live with that.”

  “You’re not doing this just to make me happy, are you?” Liam frowned, even as he continued to hold her up against him, her feet dangling.

  “I would, if I thought that’s what you needed, but no. I love having Owen with us. He fills the place with life and energy. I want more of that.”

  His smile returned. “We’ll buy a big house so you can have as much energy as you can stand.”

  “It will cut into our sex life,” she said. “All those kids around all the time.”

  “Not a chance.” He let her slide down the front of his hard, muscular body with exquisite slowness until her feet were back on the ground. “Our new house will have a master suite that’s miles away from the kids’ rooms.”

  “But what about sex on the kitchen counter?” She thought of that particular location with great fondness.

  “I’ll have a counter built in the bedroom. With a height adjustment so it will be even more…versatile.” His voice was a rumbling croon as he nuzzled behind her ear, w
hile a tingle of sensation traveled down her neck, through her breasts, to settle between her legs.

  “And we can always take the limo out if we need more privacy,” she said, her voice a rasp at the memories of their bare skin against black leather seats.

  “Not to mention a private terrace.” He pulled back which allowed her to see the intensity of his eyes. “Because I’ll need to make love to you there every time it snows.”

  She knew her eyes mirrored his as she remembered the profound connection of their first time together, a connection that had deepened every day since. “In that case, I’ll be hoping for an ice age.”

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  Read other books by Nancy Herkness

  Wager of Hearts Series

  The CEO Buys In (Book 1)

  The All-Star Antes Up (Book 2)

  The VIP Doubles Down (Book 3)

  Whisper Horse Novels

  Take Me Home (Book 1)

  Country Roads (Book 2)

  The Place I Belong (Book 3)

  A Down-Home Country Christmas, a novella (Book 4)

  Single Titles

  A Bridge To Love

  Shower Of Stars

  Music of the Night

  Acknowledgments

  This novella was a work of pure pleasure, meant as a gift to all my wonderful readers who asked to spend more time in my Wager of Hearts world. I have always wanted to write an older heroine and a hero who is younger than she is. Frankie was there at the Bellwether Club, just waiting for Liam to upend her carefully ordered world with his undying passion.

  However, a book written for fun requires all the same research and polishing as any other story. I wouldn’t give my loyal readers any less. Which means that I needed all the same help from a great team of experts. A huge thank you to:

  My Handsome Husband, Jeff, who is not a soccer aficionado but dug into the Internet to educate me on the world of European “football”. Being a sports enthusiast, he could read between the lines when I got lost in the jargon. He did double duty as my meticulous proofreader too.

  Lisa Verge Higgins, my brilliant critique partner, who happens to be a genius at developmental editing, as well as writing pithy, enticing book description blurbs.

  Ashley Martin at Twin Tweaks Editing, who combed through this story with precision and care to make sure my sentences were clear, and my capitals, hyphens, and commas were all in the right places. Any mistakes I made in this acknowledgement are all mine.

  Rogenna Brewer, my incredible cover designer, who found the perfect Liam and put the perfect Christmas brownstone behind him on the first try! Is she a mind reader or just a terrific artist? Or possibly both?

  My critique partners, Miriam Allenson, the aforementioned Lisa Verge Higgins, and Jennifer Wilck, who offer great insight, excellent suggestions, and tough love, as well as the warmest support any writer could ask for.

  Cathy Genna, my delightful assistant, who arranged and rearranged title options until we found just the right combination of words. She knows readers so well.

  And always, Jeff, Rebecca, and Loukas, who applaud my successes, commiserate with my disappointments, and show me over and over again how powerful love is.

  About The Author

  Nancy Herkness is the author of the award-winning Wager of Hearts and Whisper Horse series, published by Montlake Romance, as well as several other contemporary romance novels. She is a two-time nominee for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® award.

  Nancy is a member of Romance Writers of America, New Jersey Romance Writers, and Novelists, Inc. She has received many honors for her work, including the Book Buyers Best Top Pick, the New England Readers’ Choice award, and the National Excellence in Romance Fiction award. She graduated from Princeton University with a degree in English literature and creative writing.

  A native of West Virginia, Nancy now lives in suburban New Jersey with her husband, two mismatched dogs, and an elderly cat.

  For more information about Nancy and her books, visit www.NancyHerkness.com.

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  The Irishman’s Christmas Gamble

  By Nancy Herkness

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright 2016 Nancy Herkness

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Red Car Press, Glen Ridge, NJ

  Cover design by Rogenna Brewer