Her Billionaire Santa

by Allen, Jewel

  “What is it?” Katy asked beside him, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t know. They’re talking in Spanish.”

  She cocked her head and then shook it. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

  The driver opened the door, making the lights come on inside the bus.

  “I can’t see a thing out there,” Katy said as she peered out the window.

  The driver returned and faced the passengers. He said something in Spanish, and everyone groaned. Well, everyone but Marcus and Katy.

  “He’s saying something about land…” she said. Then she stiffened, turning an apprehensive gaze toward Marcus.

  “Landslide,” she said as the driver exited again. “It didn’t happen while we were driving past, thank goodness, or our bus would have been swept into the lake.” She grimaced. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking that helicopter ride would have gotten us there by now.”

  She laughed. “Oh, that. No. I just want a bed.”

  The driver returned, and this time, all the passengers streamed out. Marcus followed along.

  Katy pointed at the clearing. “We get to spend the night here.”

  “Where’s here?” Marcus peered outside at dark jungle.

  “Middle of nowhere,” Katy said. “The closest town is too far to travel to in the dark.”

  The thirty-something passengers milled around. Soon, the driver marched them off to a grove of trees where they were given a bundle made out of what seemed like nylon.

  “Hammocks,” Katy explained. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Marcus chuckled. “I like the convenience of helicopters, but I can string up a hammock.”

  Maybe.

  Several minutes later, he realized his rope wasn’t long enough. He looked over at Katy. Her hammock was not only up, but she was curled inside it like Sleeping Beauty.

  After about five tries, he got his up. Getting in was a different story. He grunted, inched into it, swung in, and still couldn’t get into the stupid hammock.

  Katy appeared by his side. “Can I help?”

  He couldn’t tell if it was laughter or compassion in her voice. He was going to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “Sure.”

  She held the hammock steady while he climbed in. Now he knew what a sausage felt like.

  Katy regarded him with an amused glance. “Thanks for braving Guatemala,” she whispered.

  Despite the hammock frustrations and their laughable situation, he actually felt pretty good. “You are welcome, crazy lady.”

  She grinned.

  After he heard her get in her hammock like a pro, he turned his head and sought her out in the darkness. She was looking at him too.

  “Good night, Marcus,” she said sweetly, the syllables punctuating the slow beating of his heart.

  “Good night, Katy,” he said.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KATY

  December 19

  The following morning, Katy woke up and stared in wonder at the jungle canopy overhead, trying to make sense of where she was. She was lying in a hammock, and they were in the middle of nowhere.

  She raised her head. Marcus was sleeping like a baby in the next hammock. Other passengers had already taken down their hammocks and were drinking steaming cups of coffees in an impromptu kitchen to the side.

  It was freezing. She could see her breath.

  Katy stretched and got out of the hammock as gracefully as she could. Then she walked over to Marcus. In sleep, he looked sweet. Approachable. His bulk—his biceps and that muscular chest—filled the hammock. She tried to not stare at his sexy scruff and lips, but she couldn’t help it.

  What would it be like to be kissed by Marcus James?

  With difficulty, she returned her gaze to his eyes, which were brown with greenish flecks. Amused.

  Busted.

  “Well, good morning,” he murmured.

  His voice was deep, gruff, and made her tingle to the core.

  “Good morning,” she managed to answer, sure her face was flaming red. “You slept well?”

  “Surprisingly.” He shifted and unceremoniously fell out of the hammock onto the damp ground.

  Katy laughed and then smothered her chuckles.

  “Ha ha,” he said, brushing himself off. “Glad I can make your morning.”

  Yet he didn’t look cross. His eyes glimmered with happiness.

  “It looks like they have some coffee and tamales over there,” she said, pointing at the people huddled around a table.

  There weren’t any chairs to sit on, so after they got their food, Katy headed over to the base of a towering tree and sat on the root.

  “You seem pretty unfazed by all this.” Marcus gestured to the food on the table, the trees, and the bus.

  “You just learn to roll with the punches around here.”

  He crouched down to her level. “I gotta know something,” he said. “You were born to wealth, correct?”

  She glanced away, uneasy. “Yes.”

  “So how come you’re so humble?”

  She unwrapped her tamale and shook her head. “That’s awfully nice of you to say, but I’’m just a normal person.”

  He gave her a disbelieving look. “We just rode in a rickety bus and had to sleep the night in a makeshift camp. You string up your hammock like you’re a pro and wake up looking like this.” He pointed toward her.

  “Like how?” she said.

  “Beautiful. Well-rested.”

  Her heart pounded. He was looking at her as though he really meant what he said.

  Beautiful.

  “Beds are overrated,” she joked.

  “You look like you’re in your element. So how does the daughter of a mall magnate fit in Guatemala?”

  She winced. “Please. I…I’m more than that.”

  “I know.” His voice was soft. Persuasive. “Tell me about it.”

  Katy didn’t like talking about herself, but he remained quiet, his eyes taking her in. The silence made her feel uncomfortable, and she had to fill it. Besides, she knew about the dark part of his life.

  “When I was twelve, my father brought me to Guatemala for the first time. He had some business in Mexico. With the way it worked out, we stopped here too. On the plane ride, I had been acting like a brat—”

  Marcus’s eyes widened. “No. You?”

  She nodded. “They had run out of something in first class. I don’t even know what it was. But I threw a fit. I’m sure my father was ready to throw me in Lake Izabal.”

  Marcus laughed.

  “We traveled through Guatemala. My father made some business connections in the areas while I took in their simple life.” Her voice shook. “Some people had nothing. Just the clothes on their back and a hovel for a home.”

  She took a bite of her tamale, which was delicious. She motioned for him to eat, and he started to unwrap his. She took a sip from her water bottle, her hand shaking as she set it back down.

  “The experience affected me deeply. I went back to Manhattan, changed. I organized another trip there the following summer to deliver clothes. There were other projects: child immunization clinics, shoe drives. It expanded from there. Soon, I worked on getting our city council to adopt Conchilla as a sister city.”

  “Not your typical destination,” he said, polishing off his tamale.

  She took the last bite of her tamale too. “Guatemala grew on me. I was fascinated that a country could stay so old-fashioned.”

  “Did you ever find out why?” He leaned back against a tree trunk.

  “They live close to the land. It’s a fertile valley, as you can imagine, with the volcanic ash in the soil.” She shrugged. “I really am not sure. They have their own Mayan culture here. Maybe that helps them preserve it?”

  “I’m still amazed that you could be traveling around Europe on a ski holiday, and yet, here you are, in Guatemala.” His eyes roamed over her face, an admiring
glint in their depths.

  “I haven’t told you the full story,” she said.

  “Oh?” his eyes gleamed. “So there’s a story behind this.”

  She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Biting her lip, she studied him. “Can I trust you?” she asked.

  “This sounds serious.”

  “Never mind. You already know—“

  “Yes, you can trust me.”

  Her chest clenched. When she spoke again, her voice softened and he leaned closer. “I’ve never told anyone about this, so…”

  He waited.

  She took a deep breath. “Over the years, I’ve thrown myself into charity work to make up for…for my father.”

  “Your father?”

  She nodded. “He’s always provided us with everything we need. Food, clothes, the best schools, cars. Everything except love.”

  Katy’s gaze dropped. “He has another family,” she said in a dull voice.

  She didn’t dare look in his eyes. Didn’t dare see the pity.

  “I see,” Marcus said.

  “Do you?” She raised her eyes to his, laying herself open. Raw and vulnerable.

  He gazed at her steadily and nodded.

  “My mother has tolerated this situation forever. Father gives her money. We go on overseas jaunts. Shopping junkets. Well, Mother does. I…I’d rather serve others and use my father’’s money for good.” Her father’s payoff money disgusted her. She had to find some way to feel better about it.

  “Is that why you can’t get yourself to enjoy the money?”

  “I guess. I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

  His eyes gentled. “Maybe you should.”

  “Maybe. Sometimes…” She closed her eyes and then opened them again. “…I’d rather not think about it.”

  “What will happen if your father’s finances don’t recover?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” She clenched her jaw. “Frankly, I don’’t care. That’s how we lost him.” She sighed. “So now you know why I dislike money. It corrupts people.”

  “Not all billionaires are like that,” he said softly.

  “I hope so.”

  He winced. “I know so.”

  “I could be being unfair to the rest of you. He might still have stepped out on my mother even if he were, say, a plumber.”

  “Who knows?”

  “And you,” she said, picking her words carefully. She certainly didn’t want to antagonize him like what happened the other day when she mentioned his wife and baby’’s fatal tragedy. “Why would a billionaire host a Christmas contest?”

  “You said so yourself, self-promotion.” He looked totally serious. She felt a flash of disappointment.

  “Well, okay,” he continued. “I’ll tell you, if you promise not to laugh.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “It was, initially, a P.R. ploy. But I had a secret reason too.” His voice broke, laced with yearning. “I was hoping to find the spirit of Christmas again.”

  “And have you?” she asked, hopeful.

  His eyes lingered over her face, her hair, her lips. Her throat tightened with a longing that surprised and embarrassed her. She cast her eyes down.

  “I think I’m beginning to find it again.”

  She looked back at him, her lips curving into a smile. “Wonderful.”

  He stood and held out a hand to her. In the depths of his eyes, there was an invitation, a question lurking.

  They’d come a long way. She recalled how hardened he had been. But now, in the middle of nowhere in Guatemala, she and he had opened up more of themselves.

  It was exhilarating and terrifying.

  When she accepted his hand and stood, she felt as though they’d just surmounted another mountain together.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  MARCUS

  What was he doing? Here he was, in the middle of nowhere with a girl he’d known for a week, and he was experiencing emotions that he thought had long been buried.

  Happiness.

  Guilt.

  Elation.

  More guilt.

  Yearning.

  Definitely more guilt.

  He wasn’t even looking in Katy’s direction, yet he could feel her presence. She was one of the sweetest, most down-to-earth people he’d ever met on the planet, and he’d met quite a share of the opposite.

  Now he held her heart in his hands, with her sharing her pain.

  To respect her was one thing, to love her another, and to act on it, yet a completely different story. He didn’t know where this thing with Katy was headed, but he’d give it a cautious chance.

  Katy paused at the steps of the bus and turned to Marcus. “You want the window seat?”

  “No, it’s okay. You’ll be able to see better without me blocking you.”

  “But if you’d rather…”

  “Really, it’s okay.”

  She turned back toward the bus and headed in as his heart did a little flip-flop again at how kind she was.

  Once everyone was on the bus, the driver angled it through the jungle.

  “I hope this bus is four-wheel drive,” Marcus said.

  It was pretty obvious it wasn’t when the wheels stalled just a few minutes in. Marcus and Katy exchanged glances as the driver revved the engine. When the exercise sounded futile, Marcus stood.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To help push the bus.”

  Marcus got out, followed by several other men, and they dislodged the bus from the rut. The rest of the passengers cheered from their seats. The crew clambered in quickly before the bus got stuck again.

  “Maybe we should have taken the helicopter,” Katy said as he returned to his seat.

  “Yeah, but this is more interesting.” Marcus grinned. He was actually enjoying himself.

  With every dip and bump and rut, Marcus told himself this. Otherwise, he would have gone insane. His head and stomach jostled with every movement.

  “They should do this at Disneyland,” he suggested. “The Chicken Bus simulation ride.”

  She laughed.

  With each bump, their arms touched. Marcus tried hard to keep himself from touching her, but it was hopeless. He jabbed her with his elbow accidentally.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  On a bumpy rut, she practically fell against his chest. Out of instinct, his arms went around her to steady her.

  “Sorry,” he said yet again.

  But he really wasn’t. Her face was just inches from his. She felt soft and warm in his arms.

  Her eyes widened.

  Amanda’s face floated in his mind.

  You can’t afford to lose someone else in your life.

  He withdrew his arms from around Katy and, despite the ensuing strain on his body, kept to his side for the rest of the ride.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  KATY

  They finally arrived in Flores that afternoon. Katy had dozed on and off on the bus ride. Her heart contracted at the sight of the colorful houses on the hill and the expanse of Lake Peten Itza surrounding the little island.

  Marcus was awake, looking around as though anxious to be going. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked my assistant to arrange for lodging at this resort called Las Lagunas.”

  Her face fell. She knew of that place. People had talked about it to her, and she’d decided on previous trips that it was far too pricey and out of touch from the real Flores. She didn’t want to stay there.

  “I’d already booked a place for us,” she said. “It’’s a smaller hotel in town. Modest and comfortable. I’ve stayed there before.”

  “After the hammocks last night, I just need…civilization.” He gave her an apologetic smile.

  Frustration mounted within her. “Did nothing I said this morning get through to you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me?”

  “You know I don’t like flaunting wealth, yet you went a
head and booked us at the most expensive place in Flores?”

  “Would you please relax?” he said. “It’s only three hundred fifty-five dollars a night.”

  His nonchalance made her blood boil. She counted to ten. And then to twenty. Her body relaxed, and she felt better about speaking again. “Marcus, that’s outrageous.”

  “Latrell says it’s well-rated on Trip Advisor.” He exhaled a deep breath. “Listen. I know you have this aversion for luxuries—”

  “It’s not that,” Katy said.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I just worry about making locals feel bad, or taking away from them.”

  “This is a local establishment, I believe. Local people own it.”

  Katy was unconvinced.

  His eyes held a turmoiled expression. “I could have my assistant cancel the reservation.”

  “Wouldn’t you lose your money?”

  “I’d rather lose money than your respect.” His gaze bore into hers.

  Katy bit her lip. She was probably being unreasonable. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’ll be fun to try something different for a change.”

  “Are you sure?” He frowned. “I know how important staying down-to-earth is to you.”

  “Well, it is,” she said. “But I’ve only been here by myself before. Sometimes, I have to think of others and not what’s best for me.”

  He reached over and touched her face. “Sweet Katy.”

  Her skin burned where he touched. He might have been speaking in some other language, as jumbled up as she felt at that moment.

  They had no privacy. It was not the time for declarations. They were on the bus in the middle of the terminal, surrounded by other passengers waiting to get places. They needed to catch a cab to their rooms at Las Lagunas.

  He let his arm drop to the side and flashed her a smile that made her insides melt.

  They exited the bus, and a cab took them from the heart of town into the outskirts by the edge of the island. Katy’s eyes grew wide at her first sighting of Las Lagunas. Nestled in the jungle at the edge of the lake, the hotel was huge and nothing like she’d stayed in before in Guatemala. The lodge had burnished wood walls and decks.