Christmas in the Billionaire's Bed

by Janice Maynard

  “No children?” Aidan asked quietly.

  “We couldn’t have any.”

  The silence lengthened after that. Aidan felt the story in his bones. Love and loss. The fabric of life.

  At last, when the summons came, Mr. Shapiro jumped to his feet like a young lad.

  Aidan touched his arm. “Do you want me to go back with you?”

  “I’d like that. You’re a good boy.”

  It had been many years since Aidan had considered himself a boy, but from Mr. Shapiro’s perspective, the reference made sense.

  They made their way back to a tiny exam room. “I’ll stay in the hall for now,” Aidan said. “You tell me if you need me.”

  The door was open and stayed open, so Aidan hovered just out of sight. When he took a quick peek, he saw Mrs. Shapiro’s arms go up to embrace her husband. The look on the old woman’s face made something hurt in Aidan’s chest. The moment was intensely personal, yet he couldn’t look away. For a split second he could see the couple as twenty-somethings, walking the streets of New York arm in arm.

  Forcing himself to back up, he leaned against the wall in the corridor and shut his eyes. Five minutes passed, maybe ten, before Mr. Shapiro touched his arm. Though stooped and shuffling, the devoted husband smiled with relief. “It was a mild heart attack,” he said. “But she’s going to be okay. They’re keeping her overnight. She wants me to go home and get some rest.”

  Aidan nodded. “Sounds good.”

  In Mr. Shapiro’s apartment, Aidan prepared to say his goodbyes. But his neighbor sank into a chair, his gnarled hands gripping the arms white-knuckled. “I’ll sit here tonight,” he said.

  “Why on earth would you do that?”

  Mr. Shapiro grimaced. “My hearing’s gone. I don’t want to miss the phone if the hospital calls. She might need me.”

  “What if I sleep on your sofa?” Aidan said. “You need to keep up your strength so you can take care of your wife. If the hospital contacts you, I’ll make sure to wake you up.”

  The old man sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. His rheumy eyes held a wealth of gratitude. “God bless you, Mr. Kavanagh.”

  “Call me Aidan...please.”

  “And I’m Howard.”

  The two men stared at each other, opposites in every way. One young, one old. Two different faiths. One with more family than he knew what to do with. The other alone in the world.

  Aidan knew in that moment that something had changed. No longer would he be able to hide behind the anonymity of the city. From the first moment he set eyes on Emma again and realized he still wanted her, the painful process of metamorphosis had begun. The man he had been was gone. But who would surface in his place?

  Twenty

  Emma locked the door to Silver Memories at four o’clock and pulled the shade over the glass. Fastened to the other side was a notice that said: Closed until January 3rd. It had been a good holiday season for her fledgling business. Though financially it wouldn’t have mattered one way or another, she took quiet pride in knowing she had pulled it off.

  It was Christmas Eve. Maeve had offered numerous invitations to join the Kavanagh clan for the evening and the next day, but Emma declined them all. Holidays were a family time. If that weren’t reason enough, Emma bore the guilt of feeling responsible for Aidan’s absence.

  Maeve hadn’t said much on that subject, but Emma knew the Kavanagh matriarch was deeply disappointed not to have her whole clan together. Dylan and Mia had chosen to take a brief honeymoon with a longer trip planned for later. They had returned midday today and were looking forward to spending Christmas Eve with their daughter and the rest of the family.

  Mia hadn’t called Emma this afternoon. But she was undoubtedly busy. Perhaps she, too, blamed Emma for Aidan’s return to New York. Unless Aidan had made any explanations—and that didn’t sound like him at all—none of the Kavanaghs could know for sure what was going on. If, however, Maeve had shared what she knew about seeing Emma at the hotel in the early morning hours, then speculation might have filled in the details.

  When the shop was set to rights and the till counted, Emma grabbed her coat and the day’s deposit in hopes of making a dash to the bank before it closed. The weather was far balmier today than it had been a week ago. She didn’t even need gloves or a hat.

  People on the street bustled happily. Some of the die-hard shoppers made last-minute purchases, though like Emma, most business owners were closing up for the long weekend.

  With her errand done, Emma found herself walking aimlessly, enjoying the waning sunshine and the scent of wood smoke and evergreen in the air. Even though she felt very much alone, she drew comfort from the cheerful “busy”-ness of small-town life.

  She recognized many faces now that she had been around for a few months. Silver Glen was a close-knit community and would be a wonderful spot to put down permanent roots. Emma’s mother was already talking about coming over for a visit in the New Year.

  And as for Aidan...well, that situation would resolve itself. He didn’t come home to visit very often, and when he did, Emma planned to make herself scarce.

  Without conscious thought, she found herself in front of the chapel where Dylan and Mia had exchanged vows. The town council had decided long ago to leave the little church unlocked at all times, not only for tourists’ benefit, but so that the people of Silver Glen could also stop by and say a prayer or light a candle.

  Emma opened the door and closed it behind her. It was cold inside the small sanctuary. With the sun going down, shadows spread long and dark across the wooden pews.

  In one corner, a simply decorated tree stood ready for the late night service. Candles burned on the altar already. The evergreen boughs from the wedding still adorned the windows.

  She sat down on the second row and ran her hand over the velvet cushion. Several generations of Silver Glen’s families had worshipped here. Emma felt an unseen connection to the little abbey back home in the Cotswolds.

  Breathing slowly, she took stock of her disappointment and grief. Aidan was not hers. He didn’t want anything from her. She had been so sure she could convince him they deserved a second chance. But in the end, she was forced to recognize the futility of her hopes and dreams.

  Whatever Aidan had felt for her once upon a time didn’t matter. All that was important now was for Emma to move on.

  Even with all that grown-up reasoning, surely a girl deserved a moment to indulge in self-pity. Resting her arms on the pew in front of her, she buried her face and let the tears fall.

  But her catharsis was short.

  “Emma...”

  When a voice sounded behind her, she jerked upright and wiped her cheeks with trembling fingers before turning around. The shadows were deeper now. Even so, she recognized the figure standing tall and still in the center aisle.

  “Aidan?”

  “Yep.”

  He sounded resigned. Or mildly amused. Or maybe both.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Here, where? In Silver Glen? Or in this church?”

  “Either. Both.” She felt dizzy—hot one minute and cold the next.

  “It’s Christmas Eve.”

  He said it calmly as if it were perfectly normal for him to be in the one place that held so many dark memories.

  When he took two steps in her direction, she held up both hands. “Stop. Don’t come any closer.”

  He obeyed, but he cocked his head. “Are you scared of me, Emma?” Now, he was near enough for the candles on the altar to illuminate his face. In his dear, familiar features she saw fatigue...but something else as well. Light. Steadiness. Contentment. As if someone had wiped away his customary air of cynicism.

  “Please don’t say whatever you’re going to say,” she cried. “I can’t bear it. I’ve made my peace with this whole mess. I need you to go away.” Ruthlessly, she stomped on the hope that tried to gain a tiny foothold in the hushed atmosphere.

  “I
can’t, Emma. I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

  “I don’t want it. It’s too late. Your family is waiting for you up on the mountain. Go.”

  He took two more steps, his posture confident and relaxed. “I’ve made you miserable, Emma. I’m so sorry.”

  Literally backed into a corner because of the closed-in pew, she inhaled sharply. “I need you to respect my wishes.” Unfortunately, the words came out quavering and tearful instead of firm and demanding.

  Aidan must have made his own interpretation. He crowded her, his scent and the warmth of his body making her pulse jump. “I love you, Emma.”

  She put her hands over her ears. “No. Don’t say things you think I want to hear. You’re in a sacred place. Lightning will strike.”

  He ran his hands down her arms and tugged her by the wrists until she landed firmly against his chest. One of his thighs lodged between hers. His gray sweater was soft against her cheek. If she listened hard enough, she could hear his heart beating in time with hers.

  “Neither of us can dance around the facts beneath this roof, can we? It has to be the truth and nothing but the truth.” He stroked her hair. “Sit down with me, Emma.”

  He didn’t give her much choice. Tucking her in the crook of the arm, he cuddled her close.

  But she couldn’t bear it. Jerking away and standing abruptly, she kept him at bay. “Let me out.”

  “No.”

  Emma started to shake. “We’ve come to the end of the road, Aidan. Don’t make things worse.”

  “I was a free agent when I came to England,” he said. “Danielle and I had been dating for a long time. But we weren’t sure if what we had was merely comfortable. The decision was mutual. We agreed to see other people while I was gone.”

  “And at Christmas, you went home and realized that you had loved her all along.” It seemed petty and wrong to be jealous of a dead woman, but however unpleasant, the reality was clear.

  Their intense conversation was interrupted momentarily when the minister came in and turned on the lights. He halted abruptly when he saw them. “Sorry to interrupt. Just getting ready for tonight. Merry Christmas.” He departed as quickly as he had come.

  The fixtures were original to the building and could only handle low-wattage bulbs, so even now the room was softly lit. Emma wasn’t sure if it were better or worse that she could see Aidan’s face more clearly. He remained seated, but she sensed his determination.

  “When I left England,” he said, “I was a mess. But I was a guy, so I wasn’t about to let anyone know how I felt.”

  “I called you and sent emails for weeks, but you didn’t answer.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a stubborn man. Even worse, back then I was too young to know that few situations in life are entirely black or white. You had betrayed me. That was all I knew. I got back to campus and saw Danielle. She represented everything uncomplicated and easy. Without thinking about the consequences, I proposed.”

  “And she accepted.”

  “Yes. It was something we had thought about for a long time, so the proposal was almost anticlimactic. We made plans to go to Silver Glen and spend Christmas with my family. But by the time we made it to North Carolina, I realized I had made a mistake.”

  “What kind of mistake?”

  “I loved her, but I wasn’t in love with her. I knew I couldn’t drag things out, so as soon as the holidays were over, I planned to tell her the truth and to apologize.”

  “But she died.”

  After all this time, his face reflected a pain that was still deep. “I failed her on so many levels.”

  “But you made her happy, too.”

  “God, I hope so.” He raked his hands through his hair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “As soon as I broke things off with Danielle, I planned to go back to England and confront you...to fight for what we had.”

  “But you didn’t...”

  “I couldn’t.” He sat back against the pew, his expression bleak as he stared at her. “How was it fair for me to reach for happiness when her life was over?”

  Hearing that Aidan had wanted to come back to England healed some of the raw places in Emma’s heart. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It all happened a long time ago.”

  “Is it my turn now?” she asked quietly. “Will you let me tell you my story?”

  He stood up and took her in his arms a second time, smoothing the hair from her face. “It doesn’t matter, Emma. Whatever mistakes you made back then were no better or worse than mine. It’s over.” She saw the love in his eyes, but she couldn’t let him believe that she had betrayed him.

  It was her turn to pull him down onto the pew. She half turned to face him, taking his hands in hers. “Richard lied to you.”

  Aidan frowned. “He introduced himself to me as your fiancé. And when I looked at you to ask if it was true, you hesitated. I saw in your face that you knew who he was and you weren’t surprised.”

  “I wasn’t surprised, because my father had been telling Richard for two years that if he only waited for me to finish college, my father was sure that I would consent to an engagement.”

  “And would you have? Had it not been for me?”

  “No,” she said firmly. “I’d made that clear to my father, but Richard’s estate adjoined ours, and my father had visions of joining two great families, even though Richard was a decade older than I was. Poor Richard was not a malicious man, but he let himself be manipulated by my father. When Daddy got wind of my romance with you, he sent Richard to London to stake a claim.”

  Aidan closed his eyes momentarily as a pained look crossed his face. “So none of it was true...”

  “No. But I handled things poorly. When you asked me if Richard was my fiancé, I should have denied it immediately. I’d been brought up to keep the peace whenever possible, though. I didn’t want to hurt Richard’s feelings, because he hadn’t really done anything wrong except for letting my father fill his head with nonsense. But in my naïveté, I hurt the one person I loved more than anything else in the world.”

  “Was that incident what caused the rift with your father?”

  “Yes. I was furious and distraught and completely at a loss as to what to do. He ruined my life.”

  “Or maybe you and I ruined our lives together.”

  She grimaced, nodding. “A decade lost.”

  Aidan cupped her face in his hands. “That decade taught me some important lessons, my love. I’ve come to understand that forgiveness has to be unconditional. And it’s finally been pounded into my hard skull that the people who love me don’t deserve to be shut out...that our connection and commitment to one another make life rich.” He paused, his throat working. “I won’t ever let you go again.”

  Emma trembled, afraid to assume too much. “Meaning what, Aidan?”

  He kissed her softly on the lips, a reverent, sweet caress. When he pulled back, his eyes gleamed. “It means that you’re going to marry me. The sooner, the better. My work, your antique business—we can handle those details as we go along.”

  Joy welled in her chest. “Don’t I get a say in the matter?”

  “Not at all. This is nonnegotiable. But I think we’d better get out of here quickly.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the thoughts I’m having about you right now are definitely not appropriate in this setting.”

  * * *

  Outside, he took her in his arms again, and kissing her deeply, backed her up against the door of the church and sealed his vow. He had come so close to losing her a second time, it terrified him. “I love you, Em. Body and soul. I never stopped. I’ve lied to myself for years, living on the surface of life, never willing to admit that there was more.”

  Her smile was radiant, warming him even as the chill of night swirled around him. “You’re the best Christmas present I’ve ever received. I love you, too, Aidan. My apartment is close. What if we go there and I show
you exactly how much?”

  He shuddered, already imagining the feel of her body pressed against his. “Hold that thought, my little tease. There’s one thing we have to do first.”

  Her eyes widened in comprehension. “Of course...”

  * * *

  The Silver Beeches Lodge was booked to capacity. Aidan held Emma’s hand as they walked up the steps. As the doorman welcomed then into the lobby, Emma hung back.

  “I’m nervous,” she whispered.

  “Why, my love? You’ve already met everyone.”

  “But it’s Christmas. And I’m the reason you almost missed it.”

  “You’re also the reason I came back.”

  Emma’s brow furrowed as they headed back toward the small dining room that had been set aside for the Kavanagh celebration. “I forgot to ask. Did you have some kind of epiphany about us?”

  He stood in the doorway, his arm around her waist and surveyed his loud, wonderful family before they had a chance to notice him. The remnants of dinner littered the large table. In the far corner, a mountain of brightly wrapped gifts waited to be opened.

  Pressing a kiss to the top of Emma’s head, Aidan paused to savor the incredible feeling of happiness and joy that swept over him. “Let’s just say that I did the math, and I realized if we start right now, we can still make it to our fiftieth wedding anniversary.”

  Emma leaned into him, the woman he’d always loved and needed. “Merry Christmas, Aidan,” she said.

  “Merry Christmas, my English rose...”

  * * * * *

  If you loved this novel, don’t miss Liam and Dylan Kavanagh’s stories,

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  Available now!

  Only from USA TODAY bestselling author Janice Maynard and Harlequin Desire!

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