by Teri Wilson
A dog isn’t only man’s best friend...
It could bring Anders the love of his life.
Without a bride by his side, billionaire Anders Kent will lose his chance to be a father to his five-year-old niece. So when a gorgeous down-on-her-luck dancer is claiming the same puppy as him, she might be the answer to his problems! Chloe Wilde’s not looking for a marriage of convenience, even to someone as captivating as Anders. But sometimes Christmas gifts come in unusual packages...
She took another glance at the puppy thief holding her Yorkie mix and melted a little bit. The two of them looked like they belonged on that Instagram account her dancer friends were always going on about—Hot Men and Mutts.
She swallowed. “Look, is there any way we could work this out ourselves before the shelter manager gets involved? The puppy is a gift. Couldn’t you just pick out another one? I love that dog. What can I do to change your mind? Anything?”
Surely there was something he wanted, although Chloe couldn’t imagine what it might be.
She lifted her chin and looked him directly in his eyes, so he’d know she meant business. No reindeer games.
Then she tilted her head, prompting him to say something. Anything.
Make me an offer.
His gaze narrowed and sharpened. For a second or two, he focused on her with such intensity that she forgot how to breathe.
So there is something he wants, after all.
When at last he gave her the answer she’d been waiting for, he didn’t crack a smile.
“Marry me.”
* * *
WILDE HEARTS:
Letting their hearts loose, one Wilde at a time!
Dear Reader,
Happy holidays!
Christmas is my favorite time of year and there’s no place quite like New York during the holidays, so I’m happy to bring you a sweet story set in the Big Apple.
The opening of this book takes place at an animal shelter and is filled with Christmas cheer, including our heroine, Chloe Wilde, dressed in a bedazzled reindeer costume. It’s a whimsical romance, but it’s also about a man dealing with grief and learning how to be a father to his five-year-old niece after her world has been turned upside down. Plagued by guilt and desperate to secure custody of Lolly, Anders Kent is in need of a Christmas miracle. He never suspects his guardian angel might just come dressed as Rudolph.
A Daddy by Christmas is the fourth and final book in my Wilde Hearts series. I’ve loved writing about this family, their charming brownstone, the Bennington Hotel and the Wilde family dance school in the West Village. I hope you’ve enjoyed cheering for each of the Wildes as they’ve found love and happiness in the city that never sleeps.
If this is your first Wilde Hearts read, don’t worry! Each book can be read as a stand-alone. But I hope you’ll check out the other books in the series—The Ballerina’s Secret, How to Romance a Runaway Bride and The Bachelor’s Baby Surprise.
Wishing you happy reading and a very merry Christmas,
Teri Wilson
A Daddy by Christmas
Teri Wilson
Teri Wilson is a novelist for Harlequin. She is the author of Unleashing Mr. Darcy, now a Hallmark Channel Original Movie. Teri is also a contributing writer at hellogiggles.com, a lifestyle and entertainment website founded by Zooey Deschanel that is now part of the People magazine, Time magazine and Entertainment Weekly family. Teri loves books, travel, animals and dancing every day. Visit Teri at teriwilson.net or on Twitter, @teriwilsonauthr.
Books by Teri Wilson
Harlequin Special Edition
Wilde Hearts
The Ballerina’s Secret
How to Romance a Runaway Bride
The Bachelor’s Baby Surprise
Drake Diamonds
His Ballerina Bride
The Princess Problem
It Started with a Diamond
HQN Books
Unmasking Juliet
Unleashing Mr. Darcy
Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.
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In loving memory of my dad, Bob Wilson.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Excerpt from Fortune’s Christmas Baby by Tara Taylor Quinn
Chapter One
The puppy was the last straw.
Chloe Wilde’s bad luck streak kicked off a little over a week ago while performing with the Rockettes during the annual Thanksgiving Day parade. She’d taken a tumble and accidentally ruined the dance troupe’s legendary toy soldier routine on live television. Things had progressed from bad to worse ever since, and now, just twenty-four days before Christmas, she’d reached rock bottom.
“I don’t understand.” One of the sequined antlers on Chloe’s glittering derby hat drooped into her line of vision and she pushed it away, aiming her fiercest glower at the woman who’d just given her the bad news. Not that glowering while dressed as a high-kicking reindeer was an easy task. It wasn’t, but after everything Chloe had been through lately, she excelled at it. “I’ve been visiting this puppy every day for twelve days. I filled out an adoption application a week ago, and you yourself called me last night and told me I’d been approved.”
That phone call had been the first good thing that had happened to her in days. Weeks, if she was really being honest with herself. But that was okay, because starting today, she wouldn’t have to face the worst Christmas of her adult life by herself. She’d have a snuggly, adorable puppy by her side.
Or so she thought.
The man standing beside Chloe cleared his throat. “She called me yesterday afternoon and told me the same thing.”
“Just because she called you first doesn’t mean the puppy is yours.” Chloe took a time-out from her refusal to acknowledge the man’s presence to glare at him.
She wished he weren’t so handsome. Those piercing blue eyes were a little difficult to ignore, as was his perfect square jaw. His clothes were impeccable—very tailored, very Wall Street. And the dusting of snow on the shoulders of his dark wool coat made him seem ultramanly for some reason. Under normal circumstances, she’d have thought he looked like the kind of man who would turn up wielding a little blue box in a Tiffany’s Christmas advertisement.
But these weren’t normal circumstances, and he wasn’t holding a little blue box. He was holding a puppy. Her puppy.
“Actually, that’s exactly what it means. She called me first, and a verbal agreement was made wherein I would take possession of the puppy.” He arched a brow. “Therefore the puppy is mine.”
Who talked like that?
Chloe turned her back to him and refocused her attention on the animal shelter’s adoption counselor, who thus far hadn’t been much help. But Chloe wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Are you really going to let him take my puppy? Listen to him. He says he wants to adopt a pet, but he sounds like he’s talking about a business mer
ger.”
The adoption counselor’s gaze swiveled back and forth between the two of them as if she were watching a snowball fight.
“She’s not your dog. I’m adopting her. I’ve got the papers right here.” Using his free hand, the man pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and placed it on the counter.
Chloe didn’t bother opening it. Instead, she pulled an identical packet of papers from her dance bag and slammed it on the counter next to his envelope.
“I’ve got papers, too.” She crossed her arms, causing the jingle bell cuffs on the long brown velvet sleeves of her costume to clang, echoing loudly in the tiled shelter lobby.
The man’s mouth twitched into a half grin, which, to Chloe’s dismay, made him even more attractive. “Nice outfit, by the way.”
She jammed her hands on her velvet-clad hips, ignoring the jingly commotion she made every time she moved. “I’ll have you know that this is an official Rockettes reindeer costume, steeped in Christmas tradition dating back to the 1930s. I’m basically a New York treasure. So laugh it up, puppy thief.”
He cut his gaze toward her, and his smile faded. “Once again, I’m not a puppy thief.”
“Says the man who refuses to let go of my puppy.” Chloe cast a longing glance at the tiny Yorkie mix. “You know who you are? You’re Cruella De Vil in pinstripes.”
“Pinstripes haven’t been in style in years,” he muttered.
“Note taken, Cruella.”
“You know what?” The adoption counselor finally chimed in. “I think I should probably go get the manager so she can help us figure out how to proceed.”
“Excellent. Thank you so much.” Chloe nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the twinkle lights on her antlers blinking.
Oops. She could have sworn she’d switched those off.
Her nemesis turned toward her. Chloe still didn’t quite trust herself to look at him without swooning, but she couldn’t keep pretending he was invisible when they were the only two people in the room.
His gaze flitted to her antlers. “Are you really a Rockette?”
“Yes.” She nodded. Jingle, jingle, jingle.
“That’s quite impressive.”
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat.
It wasn’t a lie. Not technically.
On paper, she was still a Rockette. She just wasn’t allowed to perform anymore. Much to her humiliation, she now had the lovely task of standing in Times Square in her reindeer costume two hours a day to hand out flyers to tourists to encourage them to go to the annual Rockettes Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
For the past four years, she’d been living her dream. She’d high-kicked her way through the last four Christmases—three shows a day for five weeks straight. Twice, she’d even traveled overseas with the Rockettes to perform in their USO tour. And now she’d been relegated to Times Square. She might as well put on an Elmo costume and a Santa hat and call it a day.
The worst part about being demoted wasn’t the humiliation, nor was it the drastically reduced paycheck. Although she was going to have to do something about the latter really soon.
More troubling than either her dwindling bank account or her shame at the 50,000-plus YouTube views of her Thanksgiving Day toy soldier mishap was the prospect of telling her family she was no longer dancing. The Wildes weren’t a scary bunch. Quite the opposite, actually. They were loving and supportive, especially Chloe’s mother, Emily, who’d started the Wilde School of Dance over forty years ago and still taught nearly every day.
As much as Chloe hated to admit it, she’d taken advantage of all that family devotion. She’d used her busy rehearsal schedule as an excuse to miss nearly all the weekly dinners at the Wilde brownstone for the past few years. Every Thanksgiving and every Christmas, she’d been too busy performing at the parade or at Radio City to be a part of the family holiday celebrations. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d set foot in the dance school.
Her brother and sister liked to joke about it, calling her the ghost of Christmas past, but her mom never complained. No one had, even though Chloe knew she could have made more of an effort. What had she been thinking? Hadn’t her dad’s sudden death from a heart attack taught her not to take family for granted?
She was a horrible person. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell the Wildes the truth. No wonder fate had thrown a puppy thief into her path. She deserved this, didn’t she?
Her gaze slid toward the dog’s scruffy little face and her tiny button nose. So adorable. Somehow her cuteness seemed magnified in the arms of Chloe’s strapping rival.
She felt her chin start to wobble.
Stay strong.
The only thing that would make this episode more upsetting would be if she broke down and cried.
“Were you telling the truth just now? Have you actually visited this dog every day for the past twelve days?”
She peered up at the man and squared her shoulders. “Yes. Did you think I was lying?”
Chloe would never lie to the adoption counselor’s face like that. Lies of omission were apparently her thing, specifically lying by omission to her own flesh and blood.
He sighed and said nothing in response.
Chloe’s heart gave a little zing. Was he beginning to crack?
“I already bought her a dog bed,” Chloe said. “It’s red-and-white-striped, like a candy cane.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from a woman dressed as Rudolph.” His frown stayed firmly in place, but Chloe thought she spotted a twinkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
He was either about to give in and let her have the puppy, or he was flirting with her in order to get her to throw in the towel. For a second, Chloe wasn’t sure which scenario she preferred.
She blinked.
Had she lost her mind? She wasn’t going to let a few kind words and an eye twinkle crack her composure. Even if the eye twinkle was just shy of a full-on smolder.
That puppy was hers.
“Nice try,” she said tartly. “But I’m not here to play games.”
“No reindeer games.” He gave her a solemn nod. “Got it.”
The man was hardly playing fair, damn him.
“Good,” she said.
Then she looked away, lest he see the smile on her face.
An awkward silence fell between them, punctuated every so often by the bells on Chloe’s costume. She tried her best to keep her gaze focused on the countertop and the adoption papers she’d filled out in careful handwriting the night before. But the puppy started making cute little whimpering noises, and she couldn’t help it. She had to look.
The tiny dog was gnawing on the handsome man’s thumb, which would have been completely adorable if he’d been paying any attention whatsoever to the animal. He wasn’t, though. His brow was furrowed, and he was staring into space, distracted.
Chloe rolled her eyes. He was probably thinking about the stock market or suing someone or the recent demise of pinstripes. “Why do you want this dog, anyway? You don’t really seem like the Yorkie type.”
He glanced at the dog and then at her. “What type do I seem like?”
A golden retriever, maybe. Or an Irish setter. A classic sort of dog that would look good curled in front of a fireplace or with its head sticking out of a town car.
“I haven’t given it any thought,” she lied.
He peered at her for a long, loaded moment, as if he could see inside her head. Finally, he said, “The puppy is an early Christmas gift.”
“A Christmas gift?” Chloe blinked in indignation. “Do the people here at the shelter know that? Pets are living creatures. You can’t just give them away as presents. That’s the height of irresponsibility.”
He sh
ifted the puppy to his other arm, farther away from her. “Rest assured, the shelter staff knows. I’m taking full responsibility for the dog.”
“So...what, then? She’s a gift for your wife?” Chloe’s gaze flitted to his left hand.
No ring.
“No wife,” he said. Then he frowned, as if his bachelorhood was a surprise. Or a problem that needed to be fixed.
Chloe’s face went hot for reasons she didn’t care to contemplate.
She took a deep breath. Action was required. If she didn’t stop thinking about this mysterious man’s relationship status and do something, she’d be going home to an empty apartment, complete with an empty candy cane–striped dog bed.
Her own bed would be empty, too, but that was fine. Preferable, actually. Although why she was suddenly thinking about the unoccupied half of her antique sleigh bed was a mystery.
Sure it is.
She took another glance at the puppy thief holding her Yorkie mix and melted a little bit. The two of them looked like they belonged on that Instagram account her dancer friends were always going on about—Hot Men and Mutts.
She swallowed. “Look, is there any way we could work this out ourselves before the shelter manager gets involved? The puppy is a gift. Couldn’t you just pick out another one? I love that dog. What can I do to change your mind? Anything?”
Surely there was something he wanted, although Chloe couldn’t imagine what it might be.
She lifted her chin and looked him directly in his eyes, so he’d know she meant business. No reindeer games.
Then she tilted her head, prompting him to say something. Anything.
Make me an offer.
His gaze narrowed and sharpened. For a second or two, he focused on her with such intensity that she forgot how to breathe.
So there is something he wants, after all.
When at last he gave her the answer she’d been waiting for, he didn’t crack a smile.
“Marry me.”
* * *
Anders Kent wanted to take the words back the minute they’d left his mouth.
