Her Billionaire Santa

by Allen, Jewel

  She shook her head. “Sorry. That was poor planning on my part.”

  “It’s okay. It’s not like we’ll get frostbite or anything.”

  As the night wore on, it was obvious there wasn’t anything else for them to do but get ready for sleep.

  Sammy invited them to sleep near their shelter, an invitation they gratefully accepted.

  Katy lay on a piece of cardboard, layering some of her clothes for comfort and warmth. Marcus slept an arm’s length away on his own piece of cardboard. His eyes sought hers in the darkness.

  “What about electricity?” he asked.

  “They had spotty electricity before. They would all hook up on a few shared sources. Sometimes they would overload the circuit and make it explode.”

  “Not good,” he said, chuckling.

  “No.” She looked up at the stars. “It’s hard. The very thing that keeps them still fairly traditional discourages progress.”

  He fell silent for a while.

  “Marcus?” she said.

  “Mmm?”

  “Thanks for coming to see Conchilla.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for letting me in on your world.”

  Tightening her arms around her, her teeth chattered.

  “You’re cold,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

  “It’s a bit chilly.”

  He got up and moved his cardboard so they were side by side. Katy’s eyes widened as he lowered himself next to her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, breathless.

  “I was going to hold you and keep you warm.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “I promise I won’t kiss you…or anything else.”

  She cast her eyes down but didn’t answer. Having him so close scared her. Not only physically. She’d be opening her heart to him once again.

  “I’ll move,” he said, rising to do so. “Good night.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s okay.” She immediately regretted her words, and yet…they felt right.

  His gaze roamed her face. “Are you sure?”

  “J-just for wa-warmth,” she stuttered.

  “Of course.”

  He scooted closer and pulled her gently until her head rested on his arm.

  Her shivering subsided. It felt wonderful to be cocooned in his warmth. She burrowed her face against his solid chest and tried to ignore the heat spreading through her body.

  She’d missed the growing closeness they had. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them to make things right.

  All sorts of feelings warred within her. No one was watching them. She needn’t worry about a scandal, even as scandalous thoughts brewed in her head from his nearness. He felt warm, oh so warm, and massively male. His hand cradled the small of her back. Protectively.

  Being held by him felt awkward. It felt wonderful.

  It was just one night, she told herself. Just one night to permit herself to be close to Marcus.

  Solely for the warmth.

  ***

  MARCUS

  Marcus wanted more. Holding her strained his gallantry to the limits. He knew, however, he would be stupid to do anything more. Not when he had gotten this far to earn her trust again.

  At the same time, his heart raced with fear.

  He was holding another woman once again. Her closeness triggered feelings he’d long buried.

  He imagined coming home to Katy from a day of meetings to her waiting arms, and later, in bed, holding her close.

  What was happening to him?

  His heart was the same, but he was not the same.

  He was in love with Katy. He could no longer deny it. He loved her with a tenderness that encompassed everything about her.

  “Katy?” he whispered.

  “Mmm?”

  “Are you awake?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, but she settled into the posture of sleep. Which was probably just as well.

  He was thinking too much about this.

  He reached up and pushed hair from her face. His fingers itched to linger on her skin, but he just let his hand fall back around her.

  He would be good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  KATY

  December 21

  Katy burrowed deeper into Marcus’s warmth and then startled awake. She opened her eyes to a soft light and to the view of Marcus’s chest under her hand.

  She raised her head and looked around. The sky slowly lightened into dawn. Probably seven o’clock was her guess. Conchilla was waking up.

  There were people pumping water, filling pans in a loud gush. A man walked past with a string of fish, probably fresh-caught from the lake. The smell of coffee pervaded the air, as well as the perennial smell of tamales.

  She savored Marcus’s masculine scent, a woodsy smell that stirred her blood.

  His eyes were closed and his breathing even. Her gaze traced his dark features. His brows, his thick lashes, sexy scruff, soft-looking lips.

  She could push away and out of his arms, but it felt so warm. He’d get too cold if she left him now.

  With that pathetic excuse, she lay in his arms and happily snuggled, falling back to sleep.

  She woke to a finger stroking her cheek. Opening her eyes, she gazed into Marcus’s. A lambent fire burned in them.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice husky.

  “Good morning,” she said, pushing out of his arms and sitting up.

  Snuggle time was over.

  “Thank you for the warmth.” Away from his embrace, she tried to not shiver. It had felt so good to be held by him, but she needed to keep her distance.

  “You’re very welcome.” He sat up too.

  She turned, and his gaze trapped hers and then fell to her mouth. She could see his breath between his lips.

  He leaned closer and paused, just inches away.

  He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to.

  “What’s going on between us?” she asked, sounding breathless to her ears.

  He searched her eyes. “I’m falling in love with you; that’s what.”

  She couldn’t look away. Her heart beat erratically. “I’ve never been in love before,” she confessed.

  “Never?”

  “Just crushes here and there. Not any full-on consuming passions.”

  His gaze lingered on her lips. “Is that what this is?” She felt like she was free-falling. “I don’’t know.”

  The expression in his eyes was gentle. “Scared?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He swallowed visibly. “Yes. But happy too. Excited.”

  Villagers clattered noisily outside the open-walled shelter. A few stopped to talk to the mayor, who replied in his booming voice.

  Marcus reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” she stammered, feeling self-conscious with so many people possibly gawking. She scrambled to her feet and walked away.

  She’d resolved to keep her heart protected, but after last night and this morning, everything felt different. More hopeful. She smiled to herself as she pictured Marcus’s sweet confession.

  I’m falling in love with you.

  When she returned to Sammy’s, Marcus was already drinking coffee and trading stories with their host. Their eyes met over his cup, the sensation electric.

  She sat next to Sammy and accepted a cup of coffee. It was sweet and strong, warming her belly. Cupping the faded metal mug in her hands for heat, she listened to Sammy tell Marcus about their rebuilding goals.

  “Our gardens were spared, gracias a Dios, but not much else. We need to grow maize. We still have farming implements. Which is good, for everything else was destroyed. Our pens. Our livelihood.”

  “We’ll see what we can do,” Marcus said.

  “Any help would be maravilloso.” The mayor kissed his own fingertips.

  A choppy noise interrupted their conversation. A helicopter was approaching Conchilla.

/>   “I commissioned it,” Marcus said.

  She gaped at him in dismay. “Marcus, you know how I feel. How could you do that?”

  He rubbed his nape. “I’m sorry. I just thought we could get out of here quicker. Plus, I had to get their news media here somehow.”

  Katy sucked her breath in. “For your promo?”

  He frowned as he lowered his hand to his side. “My promo? No, of course not. How could you think of that?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  There wasn’t time to chat further. The helicopter landed. Two people jumped out and ran, crouching, to them.

  A beautiful woman in a cream pantsuit and a guy in jeans lugging around a huge camera approached them.

  “Mr. James?” the woman said in thickly accented English. She sounded like Elvira, rolling her r’s.

  “Marcus.” He shook her hand.

  “Alessandra Cruz,” she said. She sounded like an expensive brand of tea. She looked it too. Her appearance seemed out of place in the rubble of Conchilla.

  “And this is…?” She turned to Katy.

  “Katy Stevens.” They shook hands.

  “She’s the patron of Conchilla,” Marcus said.

  “Patron?” Alessandra’s brows squinted together. “Here it means crime boss.”

  “Certainly not what I meant,” Marcus said.

  Alessandra gave him a flirtatious glance. “I think it’s great that you are here to help our country.”

  Marcus lapped it all up. “I’m simply trying to do all I can to help.”

  Katy felt nauseous. Who was this Marcus, media-savvy all of a sudden?

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Katy said, “I need to get ready to catch the bus.”

  “Seriously, Katy?” Marcus said. “Don’t be stubborn. You don’t have to walk up and back in snow both ways to be worthy, you know.”

  His accusation, though fairly accurate, stung. “I kept my promise and showed you Conchilla,” she said. “We’re free to go our separate ways.” Katy flicked a glance at the sexy reporter. “Besides, it looks like you’ll have a full helicopter.”

  “Can we wait to talk about this? In private?” He gave her a pleading glance.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Thank you, Marcus, for your time. Goodbye.”

  Marcus’s expression hardened. “Goodbye.”

  When he turned his full attention to Alessandra, Katy walked off.

  Sammy was talking to some people when Katy came over. She didn’t want to interrupt, so she just poked her head in his shelter and said goodbye.

  “Come see us again,” Sammy said.

  “I actually want to do one more thing,” Katy said. “Can you please gather the children together?”

  When he did, everyone came running. The TV crew came too.

  “I have something for you,” Katy told the children.

  Out came the gifts she’d brought: bouncy balls and little toys, coloring books, and small shirts, pencils and candy. Katy handed out things, but she wasn’t quick enough. A line snaked around the village.

  “Here,” Marcus said, joining her. “Let me help.”

  Their glances clashed and then veered off. “Thank you,” she said.

  Marcus crouched on the ground to pull stuff out. A child drifted toward him and sat on his lap.

  Katy’s heart squeezed. He looked like Santa. A younger, gorgeous version with a dark beard. Too bad it was all for the news media’s benefit.

  The kids lined up to tell Marcus what they wanted for Christmas. Sammy translated for him.

  “A doll,” a little girl said.

  “Soccer ball,” the boy he’d played with the day before told him with a lisp.

  A toy. Blanket. Food. Clothes. New flip-flops.

  Within minutes, the children had happily hauled away whatever they wanted from Katy’s stash.

  “That was brilliant,” Alessandra told Marcus.

  Katy snapped her suitcase shut, her job was done here for now. Exchanging cool glances with Marcus, she walked away to catch the bus.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  MARCUS

  Marcus climbed in the helicopter after Alessandra and her cameraman, Victor. Katy’s rejection still stung. He thought she would think better of him.

  After spending a magical night snuggled in each other’s arms and their conversation this morning, he expected more sweetness. That she would give him another chance.

  It had been too much to expect.

  Katy had said goodbye, and they would never see each other again.

  Wasn’t that what he wanted all along? To keep Amanda’s memory pristine?

  He tried to conjure up Amanda’s beautiful face, but Katy’s floated in his consciousness instead. Yearning and pain squeezed his heart. He had been a fool to allow himself to fall in love again.

  Alessandra’s voice crackled through his headpiece. “Have you seen much of our beautiful country, Marcus?”

  “Just Flores and Tikal. A couple of hikes to the volcanoes too.”

  “I have a cousin who runs a tour group. He’d be happy to show you around.”

  He looked out the window at the speck that was Conchilla. Somewhere down there, stubborn Katy Stevens was on her way to catching a bus.

  “Thanks,” he said, “but I’ve seen about all I want to see here. I also need to head back to the States. I have a Christmas benefit I need to put on.”

  “Can you please tell me about this benefit?” Alessandra sat with her notebook on her lap and a pen poised in the air.

  “It started out as an idea brainstormed by our marketing team,” Marcus said, his mind going back to that day in the boardroom. “The Christmas sales projections had come in, not as…robust as we would like. Someone suggested a Christmas charity. A million dollars, to be exact.”

  The reporter gasped and stopped writing. She gazed at him, her eyes sparkling. She was a beautiful woman, but there was an off-putting hardness in her eyes. She would push someone in the path of harm if it got her ahead.

  “That’s a lot of money,” she said.

  “We also wanted to do the most good.” He made an impatient noise. “Actually, can I tell you the real story?”

  Alessandra’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Of course.”

  “I don’t believe in Christmas. I haven’t in five years.”

  Her pen made scratching noises as she scribbled.

  “I hated the idea,” Marcus continued. “I didn’t want to spend this kind of money on a feel-good activity. Even if it was for charity.”

  “Why not?”

  “I argued that we could do it any other time of the year but Christmas. I was outvoted. Many on my board liked the Christmas idea.”

  Alessandra pursed her lips. “But you are CEO. Yes?”

  “Yes. I still listen to my board, though. So we went ahead with what they wanted.”

  “Can I ask why you no longer believe in Christmas?”

  He hesitated. “My wife and unborn child were killed by a drunk driver on Christmas Day five years ago.”

  She made a silent o with her mouth.

  “I usually don’t go anywhere for Christmas, but look at me now.” He whispered the words mostly to himself, but she was nodding.

  “And what do you think of Christmas so far?”

  He sighed. “I think it’s still an overrated commercial holiday…but I have seen the power of giving.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You met Katy Stevens.”

  She nodded.

  “She’s been coming now to Guatemala all these years, and she cares deeply for these people. She came to my office and invited me to see Conchilla for myself.”

  “What did you learn?” Alessandra coaxed.

  “That money can’t buy you happiness, but love is key. Alessandra, I saw the happiest people in Conchilla. People who have nothing but a simple tin roof lean-to, and they still give of themselves.”

  “Do you believe in Christmas once again?”
/>
  He thought of Katy. He had hoped…what had he hoped? He thought he’d found love. Could he truly say that his faith in the holiday was restored? In the end, everything ended in heartbreak.

  “Maybe that’s a bit of a stretch,” he admitted.

  When they landed in Flores, Alessandra handed him a business card.

  “May I visit you again to interview you?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  ***

  KATY

  The bus arrived in Flores that evening. There were, thankfully, no mishaps. It was almost a boring journey, even though Katy tried to distract herself by watching the passing scenery when she wasn’t dozing off.

  A woman sat beside her during the bus ride, smelling distinctly of onions. She smiled and was nice, even though she didn’t speak a lick of English.

  Katy had several hours to think about what had happened in Conchilla. She really had been hard on Marcus. He had invited the media so the people of Conchilla could get more exposure for their plight. He had kept his promise and gone to see it himself.

  Imagining him as a billionaire Santa, she smiled.

  Wouldn’t it be wonderful for Conchilla to get the million dollars?

  Please, please Lord, she prayed. Please bless Marcus with guidance and wisdom so he can pick the best recipient of his award.

  Yes, she felt better about it all. She would leave it up to God.

  She would leave her heart in His hands too.

  What would you like me to do, Lord? All arrows seem to point to Marcus, but I just rejected him. Again.

  Then go to him, came the reply.

  But my pride won’t allow it…

  Then you must repent.

  Katy nodded to herself.

  The bus shook as the driver applied the brakes, and Katy collected her things and stepped into the cool Guatemalan December air. She had already arranged to stay with the Paredes family before flying back to New York. She would go from Flores to Antigua next.

  The thought of flying back home filled her with gladness, but her heart also contracted with sorrow.

  Unless…

  She bit her lip. It was a crazy idea. One that she’d have to humble herself to do.

  The babe was born in a humble manger.