Million Dollar Christmas Proposal

by Lucy Monroe

  “Naturally. However, that margin is taken into consideration and is far narrower for me than it might be for someone else.”

  “You don’t lack confidence, that’s for sure.”

  “Should I?” he asked, arrogance lacing his tone, and his expression just this side of condescending. “I built a multimillion-dollar investment into a billion-dollar company in less than a decade, during a worldwide financial slump the like of which has not been seen in decades.”

  “When you put it like that…” She grinned, inviting him to share her self-deprecating acknowledgement of his undeniable financial genius.

  He returned the smile, his blue eyes warming in a way that was way too appealing for her peace of mind.

  They arrived at his house a few minutes later. Wrought-iron gates swung inward to allow the car through, closing with only a small clang behind them.

  The winding drive was so long Audrey did not see the house until they crested a rise after the first curve. A brick mansion that would have made royalty proud rose toward the sky, its windows indicating there were three floors aboveground and no doubt one below as well.

  “Full-time mother does not include housekeeping duties?” she asked faintly, entirely daunted by the prospect of keeping up with such a huge property.

  “Not at all. There is a full-time housekeeper who oversees a team of maids.”

  “Sounds like a hotel.”

  “No. It sounds like a home. My home.”

  Oh, she’d hit a nerve with that one. She hadn’t meant to. “I’m sorry, Vincenzo. I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t a lovely place to live.”

  “Enzu.”

  “What?”

  “My family calls me Enzu.”

  Audrey didn’t point out that she wasn’t a member of his family, or that she wasn’t even sure she ever would be. She was too busy swallowing down the emotion his invitation to use the nickname engendered in her.

  She just nodded.

  “The housekeeper does not live in. She and her husband, the groundskeeper, have a small cottage on the property. They are usually in the house from early morning until just before dinner.”

  “Oh.” Audrey wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  This lifestyle was entirely outside her experience.

  Yes, Audrey’s mother had a part-time housekeeper who kept her home immaculately clean and running smoothly, as well as a cook. But that wasn’t anything like having a bevy of staff charged with keeping this impressive mansion a pleasant home for a billionaire and his newly acquired children.

  “Devon serves dinner. Because he likes to.” Tolerant affection laced Vincenzo’s tone.

  “Who is Devon?”

  “He is my majordomo.”

  “You have a majordomo?” She should not be surprised. Vincenzo needed someone with ultimate authority over his domiciles, considering the fact one was a mansion on its own estate and the other a penthouse apartment in the city.

  Her research had not revealed other properties, but that didn’t mean Vincenzo didn’t have any. As that was not of particular interest, Audrey hadn’t dug that deep.

  “Devon worked for my parents when I was a child and came to oversee my household when I left the family home.”

  Audrey heard what she wasn’t even sure Vincenzo knew he was saying. If she hoped to come into that household and make a place for herself, she’d do well to make a friend of Devon.

  “He lives in?” she asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.

  “He, the cook and a night-shift maid are the only ones that do.” Vincenzo frowned. “And the nanny, Mrs. Percy.”

  “You don’t like the nanny?”

  “She’s competent.”

  “But?”

  “She is…” Vincenzo’s gorgeous blue eyes narrowed in thought. “Cold. A little emotionless.”

  It was all Audrey could do to stifle laughter at the irony of Vincenzo Tomasi labeling someone else as emotionless.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ENZU WATCHED IN pleased amazement as Audrey coaxed his quiet Franca right out of her shell, drawing forth smiles the little girl usually reserved for those she knew well.

  He’d been startled when the first thing Audrey had done was to drop to her haunches when she was introduced to Franca, bringing herself down to eye-level.

  Enzu often did the same, but that was because he was over six feet tall and did not want to intimidate his diminutive niece. Audrey was hardly a giant for a woman and yet she made the same concession.

  She’d put her hand out to shake and waited patiently with an encouraging smile for Franca to shake it. Enzu had been shocked when Franca had done just that.

  And the surprises just kept coming.

  Audrey was currently sitting on the floor of the playroom, coloring with the four-year-old. Enzu found himself doing what he often did with the children: sitting back as he watched in silence.

  He’d taken a seat at the table meant for coloring, but apparently Audrey and Franca preferred the floor.

  Audrey laid a new blank piece of paper out between them. “What do you think we should draw now?”

  They’d started with people. Franca had drawn a very wobbly stick figure with a square that was supposed to be a computer. She’d said it was Uncle Enzu. Working.

  Audrey had praised the picture, but given Enzu a look he didn’t want to interpret. He was pretty sure there’d been a component of disapproval and maybe even pity.

  “Flowers?” Franca asked uncertainly.

  Audrey’s enthusiastic agreement had Franca’s tense shoulders relaxing and soon they were coloring again. His niece made yellow and pink shapes that vaguely resembled circles with green lines going toward the bottom of the paper. The stems, no doubt.

  Audrey drew a single bloom that filled the whole sheet, a big daisy with fat petals and a tiny stem, but exaggerated leaves. She then proceeded to color each fat petal in a truly bizarre fashion.

  “Flowers don’t have polka dots,” Franca whispered in a worried tone to Audrey.

  “In our imagination they can be anything we want.”

  Franca looked askance at Audrey. “Johana said flowers had to be pretty.”

  Everything inside Enzu froze as he waited for Audrey to respond to Franca’s first mention of her dead stepmother since the accident had taken Johana and Pinu from her.

  “Did she?” Audrey asked in an offhand manner.

  Enzu let out a breath he was just now conscious of holding.

  Franca nodded somberly. “She said my flowers weren’t pretty enough to keep.” Remembered hurt was reflected in the small features. “Johana always threw my pictures away. Percy keeps them. In a special frame.”

  Enzu’s jaw hardened and his less than stellar view of his late sister-in-law dropped another notch, while another tick went in the column of why he had to keep Mrs. Percy on. While the woman always seemed cold toward him, it was clear she did not react to her charges the same way.

  Audrey stiffened, but her tone remained relaxed. “Maybe she didn’t understand art. Some people don’t.”

  “Art?”

  “Your pictures are art.”

  “They are?” Franca asked, eyes the same blue as Enzu’s wide with wonder.

  “Absolutely. Some people don’t realize that art doesn’t always look exactly like its inspiration.”

  “What’s inspiration?”

  There were an extra couple of syllables in the word that made Enzu smile.

  Audrey smiled, too. “Like the flower you’re thinking of when you draw one. Or how you remember seeing your uncle working so you drew him.”

  “Oh. I’ve got a book about flowers. They’re so pretty.”

  “I’d love to see that book if you want to show it to me.”

  Franca jumped up. “I’ll go get it. It’s in the library. Uncle Enzu has shelves just for us.”

  She was running from the room before Audrey could answer.

  Audrey turned troubled eyes to Enzu. “I k
now I’ve just met Franca, and I could be jumping to conclusions, but I don’t think Johana was the most sympathetic stepmother around.”

  “My brother had questionable taste in women.”

  A snort from near the door told Enzu the nanny had returned. “It’s not my place to say, I’m sure, but I’ve been caring for that little tyke for a month now and I’d say your assessment was spot-on, Miss Miller.”

  Enzu wasn’t surprised when the nanny didn’t address him directly. She rarely spoke to him. He was pretty sure it wasn’t because she was intimidated by his wealth and position, either.

  The woman didn’t approve of him. He would have fired her after the first week if Franca and Angilu hadn’t responded so well to this expatriate Scottish woman of an age to be their grandmother, if a youngish one. Besides, Devon approved of her, and he had shared Enzu’s disgust with the other nannies he’d fired.

  Audrey just nodded in acknowledgement of the nanny’s words. “Has Angilu woken from his nap, Mrs. Percy?”

  “You can drop the Mrs., my dear. My families just call me Percy.”

  She’d never asked Enzu to drop the Mrs. and it was news to him that her families called her Percy.

  He’d thought Franca did so because she found it difficult to remember the Mrs., and Enzu had been unwilling to press the point of manners when the little girl was in such a fragile place.

  “Thank you, Percy. And please call me Audrey.”

  “As you say, my dear.”

  The nanny actually smiled at Audrey, shocking Enzu even further.

  Enzu repeated Audrey’s question to the older woman. “Is my nephew awake?”

  “He’ll nap for another bit, if I know the wee tyke.” Mrs. Percy directed her words to Audrey. “We’ve got him on a schedule that keeps him sweet and sleeping through the night finally, the poor bairn.”

  “Losing his mother would have been traumatizing for him.” Audrey made the words sound almost like a question rather than a statement.

  “I take leave to doubt that one saw enough of her bairn for him to even know she was his mum.”

  The words might well be true, but family loyalty forced Enzu to say coldly, “You are hardly in a position to make such a judgment, Mrs. Percy.”

  “Am I not, Mr. Tomasi? I am no green girl.” The nanny shook her head, like she was disappointed in one of her charges. “Do you think I took this assignment without doing my own research about the family I would be in charge of? Chance would be a fine thing.”

  He couldn’t help it. He looked over at Audrey. The humor sparkling in her delicious chocolate gaze at the mention of research made something in his chest hurt.

  He met the nanny’s eyes. “I am coming to understand that some employees are as committed to doing background research on me as prudence dictates I on them.”

  “Employees?” Audrey asked, her voice strained, but not with anger.

  The woman was laughing at him and making very little effort to hide that fact.

  Mrs. Percy drew herself up in truly imposing manner. “I do not consider my role as that of mere employee, Mr. Tomasi.”

  “What do you consider yourself, then?” he asked, with more curiosity than annoyance.

  “The woman charged with raising your children.”

  “Surely that is their parents’ job?”

  “Franca and Angilu have no parents.”

  “What precisely do you consider me?” he asked, in a tone even Gloria and Devon knew to be wary of.

  “An uncle who deigns to visit them once a week for a few hours between your all-important work.”

  “A billion-dollar company does not run itself.”

  “And children do not raise themselves. Those wee bairns have a barely-there uncle. No father. No mother. Och, it’s a cryin’ shame, it is.”

  “I am working to rectify that,” he said, more defensively than he’d intended.

  “I’m sure we’ll all be pleased to see the results of your efforts.”

  If Mrs. Percy had spoken in sarcasm he would have fired her on the spot. No matter how impressed with her Devon was. But the nanny had actually sounded sincere.

  “We will be seeing more of you around here, then?” she asked Audrey.

  “Not exactly, Percy,” Audrey interjected.

  The disappointed resignation in the Scottish woman’s expression made Enzu feel guilty, though he had nothing to feel guilty for. And he did not understand Audrey’s reply, either.

  They would be seeing more of her in future. He wasn’t making a decision as important as who would be the children’s mother without seeing more than a few hours’ worth of interaction.

  Audrey patted Mrs. Percy’s arm and gave Enzu an implacable look. “You and the children will be joining him in the Manhattan apartment during the week from now on.”

  Enzu was almost amused to see a look of shock in the nanny’s eyes matching the feelings that had momentarily frozen his ability to speak. Almost being the key word.

  “They will?” he demanded in a tone devoid of emotion.

  If he let his voice rise at all he would yell. Enzu did not yell.

  Audrey didn’t have the sense to back down and her expression said so. “We spoke about it in the car. On the way here.”

  As if he might not remember when they’d been in the car last when it was less than an hour ago.

  “Normally I would oppose such an unsettled lifestyle, but those wee bairns need a parent more than they need to live in the same domicile all of the time.” Mrs. Percy ignored the tension thrumming between Enzu and Audrey. “As time goes on they’ll come to see both the apartment and this house as their homes. So long as the people around them remain constant.”

  “Yes, well…” For the first time in memory Enzu found himself speechless.

  He should be lambasting Audrey for making such a pronouncement and explaining to Mrs. Percy that they weren’t going to do any such thing. However, he couldn’t make the words come.

  Because, as furious as he was with Audrey’s highhanded pronouncement, it struck him that she might have been right about the children living with him. He should have thought of it himself.

  Which just went to show one more reason they needed a mother.

  Before he could say anything, in agreement or denouncement, he realized Franca stood in the doorway of the playroom, her book held against her chest with one small fist.

  She looked at him imploringly. “Really? We are coming to live with you for always?”

  “You do live with me.”

  Franca’s little brows drew together in confusion. “No, we live here.”

  “This is my house.” Even as he said the words he realized the ownership of a house meant nothing to a little girl.

  Disappointment began to drain the anticipation from Franca’s sweet features.

  He could not stand it. Dropping to his knees, he looked into the eyes that could have been his own at that age. “Do you want to live with me all of the time, tesoruccio?”

  “Will you be my daddy? My real daddy who loves me like the ones in my stories? The daddies who don’t go away?”

  Enzu would have said he had no heart to break, but he would have been wrong, because something inside his chest shattered at his niece’s questions. The pain was so great he could barely breathe.

  There was no answer he could give this child but one. “Sì.”

  “My own true papa? You promise?” She reached out, her small hands cupping his face, her expression so solemn.

  He could not even force a word from a throat unaccountably tight. So he nodded.

  “Say it. Say you promise. I can believe it then.”

  “I promise,” he croaked out, his own voice weak like he’d never heard it.

  How could she believe in him after her own father had let her down so completely? And not in death, but in life.

  “My old daddy—the one in Heaven now—he never, ever promised to stay. He liked going away.”

  God in Heaven. Enzu
did not think it could hurt anymore. He had let this child down. He’d known Pinu wasn’t father material, but had wanted to believe that some of what he had taught his brother had stuck.

  He had known Pinu liked the whirlwind of constant fun, but Enzu had never considered he would completely ignore the needs of his own child. Not like their parents had done all too often.

  “Can I get a mama too?” Franca asked in a tiny voice, as if she thought she should not ask for anything else but could not help herself.

  Enzu almost laughed, but it would have come out sounding more bitter than amused so he held it in.

  “Sì.”

  It was a vow.

  One he would not break. Even if he had not embarked on the search already he would have promised.

  His gaze slid to Audrey, whose eyes glistened wetly. Approval shone in her gaze, and her trembling lips curved in a smile too sweet for the likes of him.

  “Well, now, that’s something. Maybe I’ve misjudged you, Mr. Tomasi. Maybe I have.” Mrs. Percy looked to Audrey and then back at Enzu. “If your plans are what I’ve an inkling about, you may just have more common sense than I took you to.”

  *

  Enzu spent the rest of the day learning how to interact with a four-year-old and a baby from experts. The children had been in his care for six months and this was the first time he’d made baby Angilu smile, or interacted with Franca in any meaningful way.

  Because of Audrey.

  She hadn’t raised any children, but the woman so reminiscent to him of the Hollywood legend who bore her name seemed to instinctively know how to react to both Franca and Angilu. Not to mention the prickly nanny, who unbent enough for the first time in a month of weekend visits to actually invite Enzu into the children’s activities.

  Audrey even gamely changed Angilu’s diaper. Enzu did not take things to that extreme.

  He enjoyed his time there more than he ever had, and when the hour came for the car to take Audrey back to the city he informed her that she would be taking the helicopter, so she could stay longer.

  She gave him a quiet look he could not interpret.

  “You do not think you might have asked?”

  “It can make no difference to you, surely?” She would be home at the same time.