The Billionaire's Holiday Obsession

by Nadia Lee

  “Children!” Ceinlys cried out, but Iain didn’t move a muscle. Dane’s face was a rictus of pain but he didn’t let out a single whimper.

  Jane couldn’t watch it. All this fight over her? And for what? This was supposed to be Christmas. She got up and put a hand on Iain’s shoulder. “Iain. It’s okay. Let go.”

  A shudder went through him, and he shoved Dane away with his foot. Then he turned around and started to walk off. Ceinlys rushed to Dane, and after one look at Dane to make sure he was all right, Jane ran after Iain.

  * * *

  Damn it!

  As he burst out of the house, Iain rubbed his face. He’d been so close to finishing Dane off. If he hadn’t held back at the final instant, he would’ve broken Dane’s neck.

  He braced his hands against the top of his car and cursed. How could he lose it like that? God, he’d sworn never to let anything goad him into such violence again. That was the biggest reason why he’d quit mixed martial arts—he didn’t trust himself to not lose control.

  Jane was at the center of this. He was starting to care too much for her, and it was destroying his self-control. If Dane had said the same thing about anyone else, it wouldn’t have bothered him.

  How in the world could he fix this brokenness inside him? How could he…

  He dragged the night air into his tight lungs. He felt like screaming, crying, punching the crap out of something. He was so furious he couldn’t think.

  Jane should’ve just taken his money and left weeks ago. Then he would’ve been fine. He would have never reverted to this ugliness. “Fuck!”

  “Iain!” Jane called out. He turned and saw her coming rapidly toward him. “Iain, come on.”

  He shrugged off her arm. “Just stay away.”

  “Iain…”

  “I hate this! I fucking hate this! Your stupid Christmas tree and gifts and everything! I hate it!”

  Her eyes grew large and unblinking.

  “You remember how you asked me what fills my mind after I empty it with meditation? Ugly things fill my mind. I want to lash out and hurt somebody. And I control those impulses through meditation and aikido. With a nice, clear living space. No distractions. Do you understand what you do to me by disrupting that? Do you have any idea how close I just came to…to…”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “So what? I proved to everyone I’m still capable of it. Argh!” He slammed the flat of his palm against the Masarati’s roof hard enough to make the car rock.

  Jane pressed shaky hands to her mouth as tears glistened in her eyes.

  “Don’t you dare cry,” Iain said between clenched teeth. “You don’t get to do this to me and cry.” Tightness in his chest roiled like a raging ocean. He didn’t know what he would do if she cried.

  I have to get out of here.

  He jumped into the Maserati and sped off, leaving a smell of burnt rubber behind.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jane blinked away the tears as Iain’s car fishtailed down the drive and disappeared. What the hell just happened here? Dane had insulted her, then Iain lost his temper…and now somehow everything was her fault?

  But it was her fault, wasn’t it? She’d left Paris to make something of herself. To be independent and strong. Instead she’d been freeloading at Iain’s place, letting him buy her clothes she would’ve never been able to afford on her own. Why wouldn’t Dane mock her for it? It was pretentious and ridiculous.

  She was ridiculous.

  She was a charity case turning into a leech, just like he’d said, and she’d let herself become that way because she liked being with Iain. But he didn’t even like her that much. Apparently everything she’d done bothered him, but he’d just been too nice to object. Or maybe he had, but she’d only heard the parts she wanted to hear. Just like how you only heard the flattery in Gio’s words, and not the deception.

  Jane stared back at the house. She couldn’t go back in, not with things the way they were. So she turned and started down the driveway. She’d just walk back to Iain’s place, grab her stuff and figure things out from there.

  “Hey! Wait!”

  Heels clacked on the driveway, but Jane didn’t stop. She didn’t know what she could possibly say to Vanessa.

  “Jane, hold on. Where are you going?” Vanessa took her wrist.

  “Downtown.”

  “You’ll never get there on foot.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Just…” Vanessa sighed. “Look, just ignore what Dane said. He’s an idiot. He’s not hurt at all…although god knows he deserves to have his ass kicked.”

  “He didn’t say anything you guys weren’t thinking.”

  “No!” Vanessa cringed. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. It’s just… Dane is Dane. He’s always like that. He thinks the worst of everyone. You saw how he cut me down.”

  That was true.

  “Look, let me drive you back, okay? That’s the least I can do.”

  “You’ll miss your family dinner.”

  Vanessa let out a short bark of a laugh. “Like I care about that stupid dinner. Come on. Let’s go.” She dragged Jane over to a Mercedes. “Get in.”

  Jane climbed inside reluctantly, but Vanessa was right. She’d never make it back on her own. Now that she could think more clearly, she realized she didn’t even know directions to the city.

  Vanessa cut off the radio and drove quietly. After a few moments, Jane asked, “Did something like this happen before?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Iain said something about still being capable of killing somebody. Did he…you know.”

  Vanessa sighed. “He got into some trouble when he was twenty. He was doing MMA—mixed martial arts—at the time, even though Mom was against it. He was good at it, too. Excellent discipline and work ethic. You’ve seen it.”

  Jane nodded.

  “Then one day, he was at a bar. He was only twenty, so he wasn’t even supposed to be there, you know? But he got into a fight with three guys. According to the bartender, he was ignoring them at first, but they just kept pushing, and finally Iain lost it.”

  Her mouth dried as she recalled his rant about murder. “Did anyone die?”

  “No. But he beat two of them so badly, it was touch-and-go for a while. The resulting mess was ugly, but Mom and Dad took care of it. We have excellent lawyers on retainer. But after everything was cleared up, Iain went on a retreat. When he came back he had changed. I never saw him lose his temper after that…well, up till today. He’s so laid back and easygoing. He quit MMA and took up aikido, which is supposed to be a much gentler form of martial art. Started meditating. So I always thought he’d mastered his emotions.” Vanessa sighed. “If Iain said anything harsh to you… Not that I’m saying I know what happened, but I presume there’s a reason why you were left behind….” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, don’t take it to heart. He’s always tense around the holidays.”

  Jane nodded. What Vanessa had said explained so much. No matter how angry he was, it must’ve freaked Iain out to come so close to really hurting his own brother.

  And Vanessa was wrong. Iain wasn’t in control because he’d mastered that part of himself. He was in control because he’d chosen to not care too much. It was easy not to lose your temper when you didn’t feel anything. That was why he didn’t even buy presents for his family himself.

  After Vanessa dropped her off, she went to the penthouse. The lights on the Christmas tree blinked merrily away. She stared at the ornaments—all the glittering angels and stars and shiny orbs and tinsel—and almost hated herself. The tree was impossible to ignore.

  She should’ve just let Iain be. He’d been coping until he met her. She cringed as she recalled the way she’d insisted he spend time buying Christmas gifts for his family, thinking about how they’d react.

  Tears gathered in her eyes. She needed to leave. They were—no, she was becoming too attached to him, and the whole idea was doomed to fail. He was
out of her league, and it was ridiculous to believe she could be anything to him except a nice girl who cooked, was available for sex and messed up his personal space. She knew better.

  She went to her bedroom suite. Tears kept streaming down her face, and she blew her nose. The bathroom mirror showed ugliness—bloodshot eyes smeared with dark mascara and eyeliner and a nose redder than a cherry. She looked like a stupid clown in the expensive dress Iain had bought. Why couldn’t she have understood her place sooner?

  She changed into a white shirt and pants, then splashed her face with cold water, but it didn’t do a thing to numb the pain splintering her heart. She stared at herself in the mirror. That’s the true you—cheap clothes and a small-town attitude. And neither one belonged in Iain’s life.

  In the corner of the closet was her duffel bag. She stuffed all her old things inside.

  It was time to go.

  * * *

  Iain felt like absolute shit as he sat in the underground parking lot of his penthouse. He’d finished two bottles of cheap liquor from a grocery store inside his unmoving car, and he still felt like pond scum.

  Loser pond scum.

  He checked the time. It was already eleven thirty. Maybe Jane was back by now. He should man up, go to his penthouse and apologize for being an asshat. She didn’t deserve all those horrible things he’d said.

  When he slipped inside his place, his eyes immediately focused on the blinking Christmas lights. They looked so bright and merry…just like Jane. And he’d had to ruin that. He’d even told her not to cry because she didn’t deserve it.

  He was a bigger dick than Dane.

  Taking a deep breath, he knocked on Jane’s door. When she didn’t answer, he opened it slightly. The room was empty.

  Huh.

  Maybe she was still at his parents’. He hadn’t arranged for a ride for her before leaving, and maybe she couldn’t get anybody to drive her back to town. Maybe she even preferred to stay with his parents than come home.

  It was late, and he was way too drunk to drive. He’d get some sleep and apologize tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The next morning, Iain lay in bed until nine thirty with a towel over his eyes and an icepack on his forehead. Then he dialed Mark.

  “Hey,” Mark said, his voice neutral.

  Iain hated how carefully Mark spoke, but he had no one to blame but himself. “Hey. Where are you?”

  “My place. You?”

  “Home.”

  “So you made it back safely. Good. Sound a little under the weather, though.”

  “Every bar was closed last night. So I had a party for one in the parking structure.” Iain cleared his throat. “Did I break anything on Dane?”

  “No. He’s still disgustingly healthy.”

  Iain felt his mouth twist. “How about Jane?”

  “I don’t know. Did you break anything on her?”

  “No, I mean, is she with Mom and Dad? Or with you?”

  “Actually she left with Vanessa. Didn’t she make it home last night?”

  “No, she’s not here.”

  “Did you try her cell?”

  “Not yet.” He needed to tell her how sorry he was face-to-face. She deserved that much.

  “Why don’t you do that?”

  He dialed Vanessa next. She didn’t even bother with a greeting.

  “You owe her a very, very good apology,” she said in her most lawyerly “if you don’t do as I say I might just sue you” voice. “A fair amount of groveling, too.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “So you did it, right?”

  “Did what?”

  “Apologize!”

  “Agh. Geez, not so loud. No, I haven’t had a chance yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s not here.”

  “What? You sure? I dropped her off at your place last night. I even waited until she went through the security door.”

  Iain started to get a bad feeling, one that had nothing to do with the hangover. “I haven’t seen her. And I came in around eleven thirty last night.”

  “Does she have any friends she could’ve spent the night with?”

  “Not that I know of. Okay, gotta go.” He punched in Jane’s number, but she didn’t pick up. Where could she be? He tried to think it through. Mark and Vanessa were out… Maybe his mother? He’d noticed that she seemed kinder to Jane than she’d been to Hilary, and maybe his mother felt bad after the horrible things Dane had said about Jane.

  He called Ceinlys. She answered on the third ring. “Merry Christmas, Iain. Are you coming over for brunch? Perhaps you could bring Jane as well. Dane left town last night.”

  Oh no… “When was the last time you saw Jane?”

  “Last night, of course. She left with Vanessa.”

  “Vanessa told me she dropped her off at my place, but I haven’t seen her.” He got up and started looking around for a note. Maybe she’d left him one and he’d missed it. The hangover was making it difficult to see or think clearly.

  “Then I don’t know. Have you tried calling her?”

  “Can’t reach her.” He got on hands and knees to search under the tables and couches. Nothing. The feeling of unease grew sharper, as did the pain in his head. He lay on the floor in front of his couch and took shallow breaths.

  “Iain, are you there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here.” Then he added in automatic reflex, “I’m fine. I have to go.”

  He hung up, stared at the matte white ceiling and listened to the silence. Neither calmed his nerves. The space that he’d so carefully cultivated in his condo suddenly seemed very cold and clinical, and he felt alone and isolated without Jane. When had she become so important to his life?

  He sat up—slowly, slowly—and tried to think. He had to find her. She didn’t know how dangerous and nasty a city like L.A. could be. It chewed up and spat out girls who were a lot tougher and savvier every day. Jane wouldn’t last for long.

  Okay, okay…wait. A thought was trying to fight its way up through the layers of alcohol. The Audi has a GPS. He could use that to figure out where the car was, which would lead him to her.

  With a huge effort he scrolled through the scores of numbers he had in his phone until he got the anti-theft service line. A professional sounding woman answered the phone and said his car was currently at his residence. He scowled. “That can’t be right. Somebody took it! Check again.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. But it hasn’t been moved from your address in the last two days. Is it not there?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Have you reported it stolen?”

  “No, I—”

  “Do you want us to notify the police and activate—”

  “No! I just want to know where the damn thing is.” Jane would never forgive him if he subjected her to the humiliation of arrest. “God, I don’t understand how I can’t even get a simple answer when I pay you…” His words trailed off when his gaze landed on the bowl next to the door. He’d bought it at a charity auction at Elizabeth’s insistence, and used it as a key repository. In it was the spare set of keys he’d given Jane. “Never mind.” He hung up.

  With a shaky hand, he scooped up the keys and stared at them. The meaning was obvious, but it had to be wrong. She couldn’t possibly have left. Not like this.

  He ran to her bedroom suite, suddenly completely sober and alert. The nice clothes and shoes and things he’d bought her were still in there. Her bed was neatly made, and there was… He stopped suddenly.

  All her old clothes were gone.

  Iain crumpled to his knees and stared out the open doorway. Through it he could see the blinking Christmas tree and the boxes of presents underneath. Slowly he made his way to the presents and found the box with his name on it. She’d said it was something special and wanted to open it on Christmas together.

  Urgency gripped him, and he ripped the pink ribbon off and tore away the green and red paper. Inside a plain white box w
as a card and a gold locket. It wasn’t very expensive—no more than fourteen karat. He could tell she’d bought it from one of the discount jewelry stores that sold overstock or slightly defective products. Sure enough, the back of the locket had a tiny nick. He opened it and saw a photo of them together by the fountain. Jane looked so cute, looking up at him, while he rested his chin on her head. He had an uncharacteristically silly smile.

  Iain remembered the occasion. She’d threatened to do something really gross if he didn’t smile for the camera.

  He read her card:

  I wanted to give you something special, but I’m afraid this is the best I can do. I hope you don’t mind. This is my favorite because you look so open and happy. I hope you’re always like this, Iain. Thank you for everything. You changed my life. Merry Christmas.

  –Jane

  His eyes grew hot, and he swallowed a big lump. She hadn’t turned away from him when he’d been at his worst, so close to hurting his own brother. It was him and his stupid accusations that had made her leave.

  This is the best I can do.

  Her best was more than he deserved. She’d finally gotten him to see the people around him, feel something other than the inner calm he’d been striving for since the day he’d found himself in jail. It was Jane who’d changed his life—for the better—and he’d used words instead of fists to hurt her. Just because she wasn’t physically bleeding didn’t mean she wasn’t in pain.

  Good lord, what have I done? In trying to escape becoming one kind of monster, he’d become another.

  He buried his face in his hands and let the tears flow.

  * * *

  Ceinlys frowned. Iain wasn’t answering his phone or door. She’d had her driver check to make sure both the Audi and the Maserati were in the lot, which they were. Now her phone buzzed, and she pulled up the text from Mark.