His Holiday Bride

by Elaine Overton

  “Nothing.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to his food.

  Amber put her fork on her plate. “Look, I just can’t make up my mind what I want to do.”

  His dark eyes narrowed on her face. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that about you. But eventually you have to make a choice. Follow your instincts.”

  Her mouth twisted derisively. “You don’t understand. My instincts stink.”

  He smiled. “No, you just think they do.”

  Something about his smug assurance grated on her nerves. “Oh, yeah?” she asked with heavy sarcasm. “What else do you know, Paul?”

  He took a bite of steak and leaned back in his chair. Once he was finished chewing, he began. “Well, I know you are impulsive, optimistic, loyal and proud. You’re funny, and intelligent and beautiful….” He paused. “Inside and out.”

  The intensity of his feelings was there, written in his eyes, in every line of his face, in his words, even the tone of his voice. Amber wanted to believe he could know her so well, but it was hard to accept that anyone could in so short a time.

  As if sensing her train of thought, Paul continued. “I know you’re impulsive because you came out here with a man you barely know. But I was wrong before when I called you a gold digger.”

  “You called me a gold digger?”

  “The point is…” He pushed on, hoping to avoid a confrontation. “You came out here with Kennedy because you believed you had a chance at a relationship.” He pointed his fork at her. “That’s what I call optimistic.”

  Amber found herself intrigued by his analysis. She folded her arms across her chest. “Go on.”

  “You’re extremely loyal, even when you shouldn’t be. I hear how you talk about your sisters, and even Kennedy. After the way he treated you, we both know all it would take is a phone call to a tabloid to ruin him. Yet, you’ve never said a single word about getting even.”

  She smirked. “Maybe I just never thought about it.”

  “Oh, you’ve thought about it, I’m sure. But it’s not something you would ever do, because you’re—”

  “Loyal.”

  “And proud.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “But I don’t mind your pride, because it’s kept you here with me this long.” He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “And beautiful,” he said seductively, “so beautiful. More beautiful than you know. Because all you see is your physical beauty. You don’t even recognize your own inner beauty.”

  She frowned in confusion.

  Paul placed her hand back on the table and let it go. He cut another piece of steak. “You are so much more than what you give yourself credit for being.”

  Amber fought to tap down the wonderful swelling in her heart. He meant everything he was saying, and she wanted to believe him. But for everything he thought he knew, he still did not know her.

  “I’m flattered but you’re wrong, Paul. What you see is what you get. There is no deeper, hidden meaning behind most of what I do. I’m classically indecisive.”

  Paul released a heavy, long-suffering sigh. “Unfortunately, I know that, too.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, pulling a tiny piece of meat off the tip of her steak and mashing it between her thumb and index finger.

  Paul watched the strange behavior, but said nothing until she reached over and put it between his son’s lips. “What are you doing?”

  By the time he’d got the question out, the tiny piece of meat had already disappeared. Joachim’s brown eyes lit up in excitement as he smacked his lips.

  “What are you doing feeding him table food?” he asked again.

  Amber’s eyes widened. “Table food? You make it sound like he’s a puppy.”

  “No, he’s a baby. And babies don’t eat steak, any more than puppies should.”

  Amber titled her head, perplexed by Paul’s angry response. “What’s the big deal?”

  “I just told you, he’s a baby!”

  “An eight-month-old baby!”

  “So what?”

  Amber reached over and pulled down Joachim’s lower lip, to expose a tiny rice-grain-size whitening on the top of his bottom gums. “He’s starting to teethe, Paul.” She placed the meat in his mouth before his father could object. “When do you plan to start him on baby food?”

  Paul frowned, realizing he’d never noticed the tiny tooth coming in. Nor had he considered the timetable for solid foods. But he wasn’t about to admit that to a childless, single woman who apparently had more natural instinct than he had actual experience.

  “When his pediatrician recommends it.”

  She made a strange expression, and for once, Paul had no idea what she was thinking. “You may want to consider a different pediatrician.”

  Paul glanced back at his son, whose attention was trained on Amber. Why hadn’t he thought of any of this?

  Amber mashed up another piece of meat and lifted it to Joachim’s mouth. She looked at Paul. “Can I?”

  Before Paul could answer, Joachim grabbed her arm with both hands pulling the meat toward his mouth.

  Paul smiled. “Doesn’t look like my opinion matters.” They both chuckled as Joachim smacked his lips.

  Later that night, despite the bits of meat and vegetables he’d consumed, Joachim still took his whole bottle of formula before falling off to sleep.

  When Paul returned from the nursery he found Amber sitting on the couch staring at the lit tree. Hearing him enter the room, she looked over her shoulder. “I think we did a great job, don’t you?”

  He smiled, taking in the festive tree that would not even be there if not for her. “Not bad at all.” He sat next to her on the couch, frowning. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that tooth.”

  She yawned. “It’s no wonder. Most babies cry when they’re teething. But Joachim is such a happy baby, he rarely cries at all.”

  Paul noted the touch of pride in her voice, but said nothing about it. That’s it, son. Win her over for us. He settled back on the couch. “About what we were discussing earlier…what do you enjoy doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. What do you like to do?”

  Amber thought for a moment. “Decorate. I love decorating anything.” She glanced around the living room. “For instance, this house is beautiful, but let me tell you, Paul, it’s begging for some TLC.”

  Not just the house. He kept the comment to himself. “You think my house needs some help?”

  She chuckled. “Are you kidding? All these white walls are leaving me snow-blind.”

  His eyes slanted away, as a stroke of genius came to him. He got up off the couch and went out of the room. “Be right back,” he called.

  A couple of minutes later, he returned with his checkbook. He sat back down and took a pen from his pocket. “Give me an amount.”

  Amber glanced from him to the checkbook and back. “What?”

  “If I were to hire you to decorate my house, how much would it cost?”

  “You’re kidding?”

  He faced her. “Look, you said yourself that you’re indecisive. You like decorating, but you’re not sure if interior design should be your major. I’m just trying to help you decide and get my house decorated at the same time. So…name your price.”

  Amber felt her heart racing. The challenge of one room would’ve been enough to excite her, but he was offering her carte blanche on his whole house. Just to be certain, she asked, “The whole house?”

  “The whole house—although there is one catch.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I knew it!”

  “You have to stay here until you’re finished.”

  “How long?”

  “How long do you need?”

  Her eyes took on a faraway expression, as she tried to imagine each room and what it entailed. It was too much to answer on the spur of the moment. “Can I have some time to come up with a quote?”

  Paul smiled at the pr
ofessional tone in her voice. “By all means. Take as long as you need.” Take forever if you like.

  She smiled, and it became a grin. She hopped up off the couch, and hurried toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get started,” she answered, as if it were the obvious answer.

  “Can’t you start tomorrow?”

  “Are you kidding me? I have to come up with color schemes and take measurements, and—By the way, can I hire contractors?”

  “For what?” Paul’s eyes widened, as he was beginning to wonder what he’d gotten himself in to. All he’d envisioned were maybe some curtains and a couple coats of paint.

  “Never mind. I can make it work without them.” And then she was gone.

  Paul sat back and crossed his legs at the ankles, feeling quite pleased with himself.

  Chapter 17

  One week later, Paul was in the kitchen pouring cereal into a bowl when the phone rang. He grabbed the cordless off the counter. “Hello?”

  “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  “Hey, Luther, how’s it going?”

  “That’s kind of why I’m calling.”

  Paul turned and opened the refrigerator door. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, it’s been two weeks since you brought Amber back to your house, and we were all wondering when she planned to come home?”

  “You have to ask her.” Paul opened the milk and poured it over his breakfast.

  “She talked to Pearl yesterday, and said something about some project you have her working on?”

  “She’s redecorating my house,” Paul said with a smile.

  There was such a long pause, Paul was beginning to wonder if the call had dropped. Finally Luther said, “Come again?”

  “It’s more like a test.”

  “A test?”

  “An aptitude test. We’re trying to find what she’s good at. As far as I can tell, her special skill seems to be spending my money.”

  “Paul, what the hell are you talking about?”

  Paul laughed. He could afford to laugh. He was winning. At the rate things were going Amber would not be able to deny her feelings for him much longer.

  “Like I said, talk to Amber, she can tell you all about it. She has big plans for this place.” He frowned. “Big plans.”

  He was remembering the additional two thousand he’d shelled out yesterday for something called a secretary. Apparently, he needed it for one of the guest bedrooms. He was more than a little disappointed when the deliverymen carried in a small desk.

  “Paul, what’s going on? The blizzard passed over almost three days ago, and Christmas is less than two weeks away. Do you think she’ll be finished with your project in time enough to be home for Christmas?”

  I hope not. “Not sure. Like I said, you’d have to ask her.”

  After another long pause Luther spoke again, a sympathetic tone to his voice. “Paul, is something going on between you two?”

  Paul stopped stirring the milk into his cereal. “What makes you say that?”

  “Come on, man, I know you better than most. That Latin blood of yours makes you…”

  Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Makes me what, Luther?”

  “Hell, man, I was there when you met Michelle, remember? You fell for her like a rock, even though the rest of us kept telling you she was no good.” His tone softened even more. “And look how that turned out. All I’m saying, man, is that you tend to fall in love too quickly.”

  Paul started stirring his milk again. “Amber’s not Michelle.”

  “I know, I know. Believe me, I love Amber like a little sister. I know how special she is, and I can understand why you would fall for her.” He huffed. “If I hadn’t been in such a panic, you’re probably the last person I would’ve sent after her, knowing you like I do.”

  “Too late for regrets. You gave her to me, and I’m keeping her.”

  “See! See, that’s exactly what I mean! You can’t say stuff like that about some woman you’ve only known two weeks.”

  At that moment, “some woman” appeared in the doorway with Joachim in one arm and a notebook in the other. Both she and Joachim were dressed for outside.

  Paul put up a finger to ask her to wait.

  “Well, thanks for your concern, but I’ve got to hang up now. I’m going rug shopping.” With that he hung up the phone.

  He was halfway across the room when the phone started ringing again.

  “Don’t you want to get that?” Amber asked.

  “No.” He grabbed his jacket off the back of a kitchen chair.

  “What about your breakfast?” she asked, as he scooped up his keys and guided her out.

  “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  “Paul, can you come here a moment?” Amber called.

  Paul was standing by the storefront window watching the pedestrians and cars outside. He hadn’t seen the black Mustang since that day he chased it away. But he wasn’t foolish enough to believe that would be the end of it.

  So, whenever Amber insisted on going out to buy something more for the house, he insisted on accompanying her. He used his position as the customer as an excuse when she became particularly obstinate about driving herself, when in truth, he couldn’t have cared less about what she did with the house.

  Unfortunately, using the privilege of buyer’s rights gave Amber the impression that he actually cared about fabric swatches and rug textures.

  He walked back toward where she was standing in the middle of the showroom with an older salesman, surrounded by carpet pieces.

  Paul groaned inwardly.

  She had two carpet squares resting on top of the stroller where Joachim was sleeping. He was no more interested in carpet samples than his father.

  “What do you think?” she asked when Paul came closer.

  He frowned down at the two squares. “About what?”

  “The living room.” She sighed in exasperation.

  He looked closer at the two carpets. “Pink? You want to put pink carpet in the living room?”

  “Pink? What are you talking about? This is rose.” She pointed at the first one. “And that’s mauve.”

  What the hell is mauve? “I see.” He glanced at the salesman, who wore an expression that looked suspiciously like repressed laughter. “What do you think?” he asked Amber.

  She dug down in her purse and pulled out a small piece of fabric. “Well, here’s the sofa.” She laid it against the first piece of carpet.

  Paul could not hide his confusion. “Huh?”

  “The sofa. This is the color and fabric of the new sofa.”

  “Oh.” Paul sighed. He considered himself intelligent, but this was too much to ask of any man. He wanted to ask which was cheaper, but given what he knew about Amber, he figured she probably wouldn’t know. She never asked for the price until she’d already made her decision.

  He watched her bite her bottom lip in concentration.

  “The mauve,” she said, nodding. “Definitely, the mauve.” She held up the sofa fabric against it. “See, it goes perfectly.”

  If you say so. “I agree completely,” Paul said, and glanced back toward the front of the store. He hated the vulnerability of the place, but doubted Dashuan Kennedy would try anything in so public a place.

  Amber was grinning up at him, beaming with pride. “I do have a knack for this, don’t I?”

  He smiled, unable to do anything else in the face of her joy. “A knack? I was thinking it was more like a gift.”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “Very funny.”

  After picking out an unusual shade of blue for the master bedroom, Amber collected her samples and they returned home.

  They spent the afternoon as they had for the past week. They shared a light lunch, and then Amber took Joachim with her and returned to her decorating project, and Paul went into his study to work.

  Later that day, deciding he needed a break, Paul went in search of Amber. He found her sitting cr
oss-legged in the middle of the floor in one of the guestrooms. She was staring at the blank wall before her, but Paul could almost believe she was seeing something there. Then she bent her head and started writing on a large notepad that rested on her knees.

  Paul moved closer and saw Joachim laying on a blanket in front of her. He was on his back trying to wrap a chew ring around his toes. Amber’s attention was centered on whatever she was scribbling.

  Where he was standing, Paul could see she was drawing what looked like a bookcase. The object in the drawing was not as impressive as the drawing itself.

  “Wow, I didn’t know you could draw like that,” he said with true awe, noting the intricate details, the defined lines. The image was so vivid it was almost three-dimensional.

  Amber started, not having heard him enter. She lifted the sketchbook against her chest to hide her drawing. “It just helps me visualize what I want to do. It’s no big deal.”

  Paul could sense her insecurity, and marveled at this beautiful, complex woman who just continued to unfold, revealing layer after layer of unique and fascinating facets of her personality. He sat down beside her, and tugged at the sketchbook. “No big deal? It’s amazing.”

  Looking into his eyes to see if he were just being polite, Amber was surprised to realize he meant it. She released the book.

  “How long have you been doing this?” He looked back through the pages, and realized every new piece of furniture that had been brought into his home in the last week had been outlined in the book. What he’d thought was random selection was actually well thought out. And looking at the pictures of full rooms she’d created, he was pleased to see an elegant home coming together.

  “Okay, all joking aside,” he stated, remembering their playful banter at the carpet store earlier. “You really do have a talent for this.”

  “You think so?” she asked hesitantly, and Paul turned to look into her eyes. He understood that anyone who didn’t know Amber would take one look at her and assume she had the self-confidence of a lion. She possessed a rare physical beauty, a natural charm and a manner of carrying herself that radiated supreme self-assurance.

  But the woman he was looking at now had nothing to do with that pretense. This was the real Amber, a woman who felt she’d lived in the shadow of her sisters most of her life and was in fact insecure about her own value as a human being. There was such a plea for validation in her eyes it reached inside and touched the center of his being.