The Billionaire's Holiday Obsession

by Nadia Lee

  “You kept them. I was sure you’d throw them away,” Jane said.

  “You weren’t here to open the rest with me.” Iain felt his mouth twist into an ironic smile. “Brooke was scandalized that I wanted to keep the tree. She says it’s gauche to leave it up past the first week of January.”

  “‘Gauche’? Sounds more like something André would say.”

  “It kinda does.”

  “Well… I’ll open them with you,” she said. Then she looked at him. “But this doesn’t mean we can pretend like nothing’s happened. I want to give us some time to take this slow and careful. Make sure we’re both, you know…happy and fulfilled in our relationship.”

  “That’s fine.” It was less than what he wanted, but more than he deserved after having lashed out at her. “So go ahead. Which one first?”

  * * *

  Despite the pile of boxes, there was actually only one present left—for her.

  The box was rectangular and not too thick, but it had a good heft to it. She weighed it then shook it gently. There was a slight rattle. “What’s inside?”

  “Open it up and see,” Iain said.

  “I don’t want to hurry. The anticipation makes it better.”

  He sat back. “Hey, low stress. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Very carefully, she undid the wrapping…then gasped at the gleaming array of cutlery.

  “I’ve been told a cook needs her own set of knives.”

  “Oh my gosh, Iain. And there’s a sharpener!”

  “Luc said they were the best.”

  Luc was the chef at La Mer, another of Mark’s restaurants in L.A. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “‘Thank you’ would be enough.” Iain put his hand around the locket. “And I never got to thank you for this.”

  She flushed. Her present looked sort of anemic compared to the sleek and burnished set of blades he’d given her. It must have cost a fortune.

  “When I saw the picture—and your note—I realized what was in your heart. And how stupid I was being.”

  “Iain…”

  “Like you said, we should take this slow and easy. I know what I want, but I don’t want to rush you into anything. I want you to be happy, Jane. You deserve that.”

  She had to blink away tears at the sincerity in his voice. “Do you want to take down the decorations? Now that we’re done with our gifts, we should get the tree out of your place before spring.”

  “That…would be nice,” he said with a small, crooked smile.

  * * *

  They ordered Chinese for dinner, and afterward, Iain offered to drive her home. Jane had wondered if he would try to sleep with her at his condo, but he’d been a perfect gentleman. He took her desire to proceed slowly seriously, and she appreciated the respect that implied.

  The ride back was quiet. Unlike every other man she’d dated, Iain didn’t listen to music when he drove. At first she’d thought it was slightly weird, but the silence was peaceful in a way. Something about the hum of the tires and the passing scenery helped her hear her thoughts, to gather them and reduce them until they made sense. She drifted in and out under the steady flash of freeway lights until Iain took the exit ramp. As they slowed the shrill Psycho tune jerked her out of her peaceful moment.

  “Who’s that?” Iain asked.

  She sighed. “Gio.” She picked it up, intending to tell him never to bother her again.

  “Told you I’d find you!”

  A cold shiver went down her spine. She looked at Iain, then around as their car went through the intersection. Blinding headlights came from another car running the red, gunning for the passenger side. The other driver didn’t even brake.

  She screamed, and Iain instantly swerved.

  The bumper of the other car—some kind of blue sedan—crashed into the Maserati’s headlight on the passenger side. Metal crunched against metal; plastic cracked and flew. The sedan’s door creaked open, and Gio jumped out.

  “Bitch! I told you! I told you!” A knife flashed in his hand.

  “Oh my god!” Jane stared at the wicked looking blade, then turned and made sure her door was locked.

  “Just ten fucking grand! It could change our lives! My investments are about to pay off.” He rushed the Maserati and slammed into the passenger side window.

  “Jane,” Iain said, his voice unnaturally calm. “Call 911. And no matter what, stay in the car.”

  “Okay.” She flicked the screen on her phone.

  Then she realized what Iain was about to do. She clenched her phone and leaned over to the driver’s side, but he was already out of the car. “Iain, no!”

  The door slammed shut and there was a click as the auto-lock engaged. “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” came a tinny voice.

  “This is Jane Connolly. We’re at some intersection. My ex rammed into my boyfriend’s car, and he has a knife.”

  “Miss, where are you?”

  Gio didn’t miss a beat. “Come on, asshole!” He jumped onto the hood of the Maserati to reach Iain, his grip tight on the knife.

  “Oh my god, he’s going to cut him!” Jane said, too riveted to the scene outside to continue with the operator.

  For a moment Jane thought she was hallucinating. Iain actually seemed to be smiling. “Should’ve brought a gun,” he said.

  “Got one, but I want the bitch to suffer, pretty boy,” Gio sneered. He lunged at Iain.

  Jane couldn’t sit still. There were only two scenarios—Gio killing Iain or Iain killing Gio. Neither was bearable, and she couldn’t stay in the car anymore.

  As she opened her side of the door and got out, she heard the most sickening popping noise. Gio screamed.

  “Agh! Okay okay, no no no wait please man, don—” It happened again, and there was another scream.

  She ran around the car. “Iain, no! He’s not worth it.”

  Iain was standing over Gio, who was lying on his back and a slobbering mess. He was angled wrong in the elbows and writhing in pain, snot covering his face. “He won’t be bothering you for a while.”

  “Did you break his arms?”

  “Popped the elbow capsules. They’re not exactly broken.” Iain turned to look at her. He was breathing evenly, and he didn’t have the wild anger he’d had at his parents’ Christmas party. “Hey, you’re crying.” He run his thumbs along her cheeks.

  Her entire face was wet. She’d had no idea. “I’m so sorry,” she said as a siren sounded in the air.

  “For what?”

  “For bringing”—she gestured at Gio—“this into your life.”

  Iain shrugged. “This is pretty small, as problems go. I’m not sorry you’re in my life, Jane.”

  “Are you going to get into trouble?” she asked, looking at Gio.

  “No. Self-defense. Don’t say anything to the cops. I’ll have our attorneys meet us at the station.” He briefly touched his finger to her forehead. “You’re bleeding. We’ll need to take care of that.”

  “Okay. Whatever you want.”

  “I’m taking advantage, but I want you to know I love you, and I want you to take a chance on me. I’m going to do my best to be very good at living for the rest of my life.”

  She choked back a laugh. “Don’t let adrenaline make you say things you might regret. I’m a simple girl, and what if you get bored?” The siren grew louder, and she could see lights flashing in the distance.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Sometimes the best things in life are simple.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Jane and Iain were treated, then the cops took their statements in the presence of three crisply dressed attorneys. Unlike the police in D.C., the L.A. officers took Jane seriously, thank god.

  Gio lawyered up and refused to plead guilty, so he was going to be tried. The police were certain he’d be found guilty and also sent back to Louisiana for a string of crimes he’d committed. Apparently there were several outstanding warrants on him.

  Jane moved in
with Iain. She’d told him she’d like to take it slow and easy, but now all that seemed foolish when she knew he was the one for her. The incident with Gio made her realize that every second with Iain was precious—you never knew what would happen next.

  When the penthouse was fully redone a month later, Iain invited Mark and Hilary for dinner so Jane could try out a new set of recipes on them.

  “So what do you think?” she asked as Mark, Hilary and Iain sampled the first of her five course meal—very thinly sliced Culatello di Zibello.

  “Love it,” Hilary said.

  “Excellent,” Iain said.

  “You sure you don’t want to cook in a restaurant kitchen? I can open a new one just for you,” Mark said.

  Jane laughed. “No, thanks. I want something more personal than making as many cold appetizers as I can in a shift.”

  “Oh man. I should’ve known André would pull something like this. I wanted him to poach talent, not get rid of it.”

  She laughed again. “He’s great, isn’t he?”

  “Not as great as you,” Iain said with a small grin, and she smiled back. He still meditated and did his exercises, but he was much more relaxed and open. It warmed her heart to see him happy.

  Mark began, “If you ever change your mind…”

  “I’ll let you know,” Jane said. “But don’t hold your breath. I still have a lot to learn, and I want to do everything right this time. And I want to make sure I’m doing something I’m really passionate about.”

  “Good for you,” Hilary said. “That’s so wise.”

  After the other two left, Jane stretched out on the rug, her head in Iain’s lap. He played with her hair. “Hey, you want to visit Paris?”

  “You mean…?”

  “Your home town.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. She wanted to go, but there were times she wasn’t sure. She missed her family so much, and Vivian swore her family missed her too. But she wasn’t’ sure how they’d actually react to seeing her again. Her departure had been a bit high on the impetuous drama scale. And she still hadn’t quite “made it”, although things were definitely looking up.

  “If you don’t want to go, that’s okay. I can go alone.”

  “Huh?” She sat up. “Wait, what? Why?”

  “I want to meet your family.”

  “But why?”

  “It’s customary,” Iain said with mock gravity, “to ask the father of the intended for his blessing.”

  Her brain short-circuited. She couldn’t have heard that right.

  “And I’m sure your family and friends would like to meet me to, you know, check me out and make sure I’m good enough for you.”

  “Did you just say intended?”

  “Yup. I plan to marry you.”

  “But Iain! It’s been only a month since the whole Gio thing.”

  “So? We knew each other before that.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Jane, I’m not dumb…even if it does take me a little while to learn sometimes. I know the real thing when I see it, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He pulled out a square velvet box and opened it. Inside was a gorgeous diamond solitaire ring. “Will you marry me?”

  She put her hands over her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. Her heart was literally pounding. When she’d left her hometown, she had nothing. Now she had new friends, a mentor and now the most wonderful man who loved her to pieces who wanted to be with her for the rest of their lives.

  “If the rock’s too small, I can always get you something bigger,” Iain joked when she didn’t say anything for a moment.

  “You silly man!” She laughed, tears running down her face. “You know it’s not that. Yes, I’ll marry you. And we can go to Paris together.”

  “Perfect.” He put the ring on her finger. “And afterward we can go to that other Paris—you know, the one in France?—for our honeymoon. What do you say?”

  “Anywhere is perfect so long as you’re with me.”

  He cupped her face for a kiss full of the sweetest promise.

  Epilogue

  Salazar looked up from documents he was reviewing when his assistant Kimberly Sanford walked in with the strangest expression on her face. She was gorgeous—as all his assistants tended to be—and exceptionally smart—which he couldn’t say about all his assistants. Her long dark hair covered the faint but noticeable scar on her jaw line—the only flaw on her otherwise perfect face. He often wondered how she’d gotten it, but never asked.

  “This came for you.” She worried the corner of a large brown envelope with her thumb. “The courier said you were being served.”

  Salazar raised an eyebrow. “What, somebody wants to sue? They should’ve sent it to my lawyers.”

  “It’s from Samantha Jones.”

  Salazar stilled. Samantha was a famous divorce attorney for the rich and famous. Kim placed the envelope in his hand, then turned and left. He ripped it open with surprisingly shaky fingers, pulled out the papers and blinked, unsure if he was reading them correctly.

  Ceinlys was divorcing him.

  ——

  Thank you for reading The Billionaire’s Holiday Obsession. I hope you enjoyed it! The Pryce Family Series continues with The Billionaire’s Secret Wife - US :: UK :: Germany :: Canada :: Australia

  Would you like to know when my next book is available? Send a blank message to new-from-nadia@aweber.com or go to my website at www.nadialee.net to sign up for my new release alert.

  If you enjoyed The Billionaire’s Holiday Obsession, I’d appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book, too.

  Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, reader’s groups and discussion boards.

  Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it. If you do write a review, please contact me at nadia@nadialee.net so I can thank you with a personal email.

  I love to hear from readers! Feel free to write me at nadia@nadialee.net or follow me on Twitter @nadialee, or like my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/nadialeewrites or join my reader group at http://www.facebook.com/groups/595788263841144/. Say hello and let me know which one of my characters is your favorite or what you want to see next or anything else you want to talk about! I personally read all my emails, Tweets and Facebook comments.

  What’s Next?

  Coming up next is The Billionaire’s Secret Wife, featuring Vanessa Pryce and her older brother Iain’s best friend Justin Sterling.

  ——

  Unedited excerpt

  Prologue

  Ten years ago

  Justin Sterling wrapped his arms around the soft, slim body of Vanessa Pryce, relaxing in afterglow. The top-floor hotel suite was dark, mirroring the desert blackness that floated beyond Vegas’s garish lights. The AC was putting out cool air, and now that the lovemaking was finished she shivered. He pulled a sheet over the two of them.

  They’d been dating for almost five years. Justin had attended Stanford for his Masters in order to be close to Vanessa, even though his great-uncle had thought Harvard Business School would be a better option. Nobody knew about their they were seeing each other, though. She wanted to keep things low-key to avoid drawing attention to their relationship.

  Justin didn’t mind if it made her feel better. Also, he knew his status as the Heir Apparent to one of the richest and most influential men in the world could destroy the privacy Vanessa wanted. There was a reason she tried to keep a low profile despite her own family’s considerable wealth and prestige, and she avoided talking about them as much as she could.

  She pressed her cheek against his chest. “You know I’m going to start my job soon,” she said quietly.

  “L.A., right?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He pushed his hand gently through her silky hair. She always dyed it apple red, even though her natural black looked stunning. She took after her mother, who’d been a renowned beauty in her youth. “We can pr
obably accommodate each other’s schedules. Now that I have my MBA, I need to be in Chicago for awhile, but it’s not that far.”

  “Justin…” She cleared her throat. “It’s probably better if we break up.”

  His hand stilled. “What?”

  She sighed softly. “Long distance relationships never work.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I think I do. We’ll be both busy with our careers, and you’re going to be surrounded by beautiful women in Chicago. You’ll want to date them.”

  “Ohh, the women in Chicago. They’re the problem. I guess all the handsome actors in L.A. won’t be a factor.” Justin said, keeping his tone light, even though the idea sent a fiery jealousy blazing through his body.

  She laughed softly. “No, I’m not really interested. Besides, most of them want to date people who can help their careers, and lawyers don’t really count. Not enough studio connections.”

  “Not if the lawyer’s worth fifty million bucks.”

  She pressed her mouth against his. “Justin. Stop arguing. We still have until morning.”

  “Oh. So our breakup starts in the morning?”

  “Yup. Let’s not waste the night.”

  When she fitted her body to him, Justin let his annoyance go. She’d change her mind.

  Except she hadn’t.

  * * *

  November, one year prior

  Ten years of on-and-off dating. No, you couldn’t really call it dating. The more accurate term would be booty-calling. A week’s conference in New York, a business trip to San Francisco, a secretly planned mini-vacation in Bahamas. Two or three times a year, sometimes more, they’d find an excuse—or make one—to get together. Even though Vanessa’s prediction about their careers seemed to be playing out, they couldn’t really let each other go.

  He stewed over that as he’d walked along the night streets of downtown L.A. after leaving his friend—and Vanessa’s brother—Iain at a club. Vanessa had been so odd when he’d shown up at her firm, all uptight and aloof. Nobody, not even Iain, seemed to know what was wrong with her.