The Italian's Christmas Proposition (HQR Presents)

by Cathy Williams

  “Me, too,” Nicole said.

  Oliver nearly jumped, as if he’d forgotten his bride beside him. “Naturally.” He suddenly looked at Holly. “Did Nicole convince you yet? Will you come and work as my secretary there?”

  Feeling everyone’s eyes on her, her cheeks went red-hot. She stammered, “D-don’t be silly.”

  “You mustn’t be selfish,” Oliver insisted. “I can’t cope without you. Who else can keep me organized in my new job?”

  “And I might get pregnant soon,” Nicole said anxiously. “Who will take care of the baby if you’re not around?”

  The ache in Holly’s throat sharpened to a razor blade. Watching her sister marry the man she loved and then leave for the other side of the world was hard enough. But the suggestion that Holly should live with them and raise their children was pure cruelty.

  As of her birthday yesterday, she was a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. She was a secretary, a sister, and perhaps soon, an aunt. But would she ever be more? A wife? A mother?

  Would she ever meet a man she could love, who would love her in return? Would she ever be the most important person in the world to anyone?

  At twenty-seven, it was starting to seem unlikely. She’d spent nearly a decade raising her sister since their parents died. She’d spent the last three years taking care of Oliver at work. Maybe that was all she was meant to do. Take care of Nicole and Oliver, watch them love each other and raise their children. Maybe Holly was meant only to be support staff in life. Never the star. The thought caused a stab of pain through her heart.

  She choked out, “You’ll be fine without me.”

  “Fine!” Indignantly, Nicole shook her head. “It would be a disaster! You have to come with us to Hong Kong, Holly. Please!”

  Her sister spoke with the same wheedling tone she’d used since she was a child to get her own way. The same one she’d used four weeks ago to convince Holly to arrange her sudden wedding—using the same Christmas details that Holly had once dreamed of for her own wedding someday.

  Until she’d realized there was no point in saving all her own Christmas wedding dreams for a marriage that would never happen. If any man was ever going to be interested in her, it would have happened by now. And it hadn’t. Her sister was the one with the talent in that arena. Blonde, tiny and beautiful, Nicole had always had a strange power over men, and at twenty-two, she’d learned how to use it well.

  But even Holly had never imagined, when she’d introduced her to Oliver last summer at a company picnic, that it would end like this.

  Looking at her sister, Holly suddenly noticed Nicole’s bare neck. “Where’s Mom’s gold-star necklace, Nicole?”

  Touching her bare collarbone above her neckline, her sister ducked her head. “It’s somewhere in all the boxes. I’m sure I’ll find it when I unpack in Hong Kong.”

  “You lost Mom’s necklace?” Holly felt stricken. It was bad enough their parents hadn’t lived to see their youngest daughter get married, but if Nicole had lost the precious gold-star necklace their mother had always worn...

  “I didn’t lose it,” Nicole said irritably. She shrugged. “It’s somewhere.”

  “And don’t try to change the subject, Holly,” Oliver said sharply. “You’re being stubborn and selfish to stay in New York, when I need you so badly.”

  Selfish. The accusation hit Holly like a blow. Was she being selfish to stay, when they needed her? Selfish to still hope she could find her own happiness, instead of putting their needs first forever?

  “I...I’m not trying to be,” she whispered. As the limo drove north toward Midtown, Holly looked out the window, toward the bright Christmas lights and colorful window displays as the limo passed the department stores on Sixth Avenue. The sidewalks were filled with shoppers carrying festive bags and wrapped packages, rushing to buy gifts to put under the Christmas tree and fill stockings tomorrow morning. She saw happy children wearing Santa hats and beaming smiles.

  A memory went through her of Nicole at that age, her smiling, happy face missing two front teeth as she’d hugged Holly tight and cried, “I wuv you, Howwy!”

  A lump rose in Holly’s throat. Nicole was her only family. If her baby sister truly needed her, maybe she was being selfish, thinking of her own happiness. Maybe she should just—

  “Let me get this straight.” Stavros Minos’s voice was acidic as he suddenly leaned forward. “You want Miss Marlowe to quit her job at Minos International and move to Hong Kong? To do your office work for you, Oliver, all day, then take care of your children all night?”

  Oliver scowled. “It’s none of your business, Stavros.”

  “Your concern does you credit, Mr. Minos,” Nicole interceded, giving him a charming smile, “but taking care of people is what Holly does best. She’s taken care of me since I was twelve. I can’t imagine her ever wanting to stop taking care of me.”

  “Of us,” Oliver said.

  Stavros lifted his sensual lips into a smile that showed the white glint of his teeth as he turned to Holly. “Is that true?”

  He was looking at her so strangely. She stammered, “A-anyone would feel the same.”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” Oliver said with a snort, leaning back in the seat. “Minos men are selfish to the bone. We do what we like, and everyone else be damned.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” his wife said.

  He winked. “It’s part of our charm, darling.”

  But Nicole didn’t seem terribly charmed. With a flare of her nostrils, she turned to Holly. “I can’t just leave you in New York. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You’d be so alone.”

  She stiffened. “I have friends...”

  “But not family,” she said impatiently. “And it’s not very likely you ever will, is it?”

  “Will what?”

  “Have a husband or children of your own. I mean, come on.” She gave a good-natured snort. “You’ve never even had a serious boyfriend. Do you really want to die alone?”

  Holly stared at her sister in the back of the limo.

  Nicole was right. And tomorrow, for the first time in her life, Holly would spend Christmas Day alone.

  Christmas, and the rest of her life.

  Her eyes met Stavros’s in the back of the limo. His handsome features looked as hard and cold as a marble statue, his black eyes icy as a midwinter’s night. Then his expression suddenly changed.

  “I’m afraid Miss Marlowe can’t possibly go to Hong Kong,” he said. “Because I need another executive assistant. So I’m giving her a promotion.”

  “What?” gasped Oliver.

  “What?” gasped Nicole.

  Holly looked at him sharply, blinking back tears. “What?”

  His expression gentled. “Will you come work directly for me, Miss Marlowe? It will mean long hours, but a sizable raise. I’ll double your salary.”

  “But—” Swallowing, Holly whispered, “Why me?”

  “Because you’re the best.” His jaw, dark with five-o’clock shadow, tightened. “And because I can.”

  * * *

  Stavros hadn’t meant to get involved. Oliver was right. This was none of his business.

  He didn’t care about his cousin. Cousin or not, the man was a useless bastard. Stavros regretted the day he’d hired him. Oliver had done a poor job as VP of Marketing. He’d been within a day of being fired when he’d taken the “surprise offer” from Hong Kong. Stavros was glad to see him go. He suspected Oliver might be surprised when his new employers actually expected him to work for his salary.

  Stavros didn’t much care for his cousin’s new bride, either. In spite of his own turmoil last night, he’d actually tried to warn Nicole about Oliver’s cheating ways at the rehearsal dinner. But the blonde had just cut him off. So she knew what she was getting
into; she just didn’t care.

  He didn’t give a damn about either of them.

  But Holly Marlowe—she was different.

  Stavros suspected it was only through the hardworking secretary’s efforts that Oliver had managed to stay afloat these last three years. Holly worked long hours at the office then probably nights and weekends at home, doing Oliver’s job for him. Everyone at the New York office loved kind, dependable Miss Marlowe, from the janitors to the COO. Tender-hearted, noble, self-sacrificing... Holly Marlowe was the most respected person in the New York office, Stavros included.

  But she was totally oppressed by these two selfish people, who, instead of thanking her for all she’d done, seemed intent on taking her indentured servitude with them to Hong Kong.

  Two days ago, Stavros might have shrugged it off. People had the right to make their own choices, even stupid ones.

  But not after the news he’d received yesterday. Now, for the first time he was thinking about what his own legacy would be after he was gone. And it wasn’t a pretty picture.

  “You can’t have Holly! I need her!” Oliver exploded. At Stavros’s fierce glare, his cousin glanced uneasily at his wife. “We need her.”

  “You don’t want some stupid promotion, do you, Holly?” Nicole wailed.

  But Holly’s face was shining as she looked at Stavros. “Do—do you mean it?”

  “I never say anything I don’t mean.” As they drove north, past bundled-up tourists and sparkling lights and brightly decorated department-store windows, his gaze unwillingly traced over her pretty face and incredible figure. Until he’d stood across from her in the old stone church by candlelight, he’d never realized how truly beautiful Holly Marlowe was.

  The truth was, he hadn’t wanted to notice. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen in his world, while truly competent, highly driven secretaries were few. And Holly had hidden her beauty, making herself nearly invisible at the office, yanking her fiery red hair in a matronly bun, never wearing makeup, working quietly behind the scenes in loose-cut beige skirt suits and sensible shoes.

  Was this what she’d looked like all the time? Right under his nose?

  Her bright, wide-set green eyes looked up at him, luminous beneath dramatic black lashes. Her skin was pale except for a smattering of freckles over her nose. Her lips were red and delectable as she nibbled them with white, even teeth. Her thick, curly red-gold hair spilled over her shoulders. And that tight red dress—

  That dress—

  Stavros obviously wasn’t dead yet, because it set his pulse racing.

  The bodice was low-cut, clinging to full, delicious breasts he’d never imagined existed beneath those baggy beige suits. As she moved, the knit fabric clung to her curves. He’d gotten a look at her deliciously full backside as they’d left the church, too.

  All things he would have to ignore once she worked for him. Deliberately, he looked away. He didn’t seduce women who worked for him. Why would he, when beautiful women were so plentiful in his world, and truly spectacular employees more precious than diamonds?

  Sex was an amusement, nothing more. But for years, his company had been his life.

  And the reason Holly chose to dress so plainly in the office was obviously that she wanted to be valued for her accomplishments and hard work, not her appearance. In that, they were the same. From the time he was a child, Stavros had wanted to do important things. He’d wanted to change the world.

  But that wasn’t all they had in common. He’d seen her tortured expression as she’d looked at Oliver. So Stavros and Holly each had secrets they didn’t want to talk about.

  To anyone.

  Ever.

  But her inexplicable infatuation for Oliver couldn’t possibly last. When she recovered from it, like someone healing from a bad cold, she’d realize she’d dodged a bullet.

  As for Stavros’s secret, people would figure it out for themselves when he dropped dead. Which, according to his doctor’s prognosis, would happen in about six to nine months. He blinked.

  All the life he’d left unlived...

  Just a few days ago, Stavros had vaguely assumed he’d have another fifty years. Instead, he’d be unlikely to see his thirty-seventh birthday next September.

  He would die alone, with no one but his lawyers and stockholders to mourn him. His company would be his only legacy. Estranged from his father, and feeling as he did about Oliver, Stavros would likely leave his shares to charity.

  Poor Stavros, his ex-mistresses would say. Then they’d roll over and enjoy their hot new lovers in bed.

  Poor Minos, his business associates would say. Then they’d focus on exciting new technology to buy and sell.

  And he’d be dirt in the ground. Never once knowing what it felt like to commit to anything but work. Not even leaving a son or daughter to carry on his name.

  Looking back, Stavros saw it all with painful clarity, now that his life was coming to an end. And he had only himself to blame. Nicole’s thoughtlessly cruel words floated back to him. Do you really want to die alone?

  Christmas lights sparkled on Sixth Avenue, as yellow taxis filled with people on the way to family dinners rushed past in the rapidly falling twilight. The limo turned east, finally pulling into the entrance of the grand hotel overlooking Central Park.

  “This isn’t over, Holly,” Oliver said firmly. “I’m going to persuade you.”

  “You’ll come with us,” Nicole said, smiling as she smoothed back her veil.

  The uniformed driver opened the back door of the limousine. Oliver got out first, then gallantly reached back to assist his glamorous bride. Nicole’s white tulle skirts swirled in a train with her fluttery white veil, her diamond tiara sparkling. Tourists gaped at them on the sidewalk. A few lifted their phones for pictures, clearly believing they were seeing royalty. The new Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Minos waved at them regally as they swept into the grand hotel to take photos before the guests arrived for a ballroom reception.

  Silence fell in the back of the limo. For a moment, Holly didn’t move. Stavros looked at her.

  “Don’t give in to them, Holly,” he urged in a low voice. It was the first time he’d used her first name. “Stick up for yourself. You’re worth so much more than they are.”

  Her green eyes widened, then suddenly glistened with tears. She whispered, “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true,” he said harshly. He got out of the limo and held out his hand for her.

  Blinking fast, she slowly placed her hand in his.

  And it happened.

  Stavros had slept with many women, beautiful and famous and powerful, models and starlets and even a Nobel laureate.

  But when he touched Holly’s hand to help her from the limo, he felt something he’d never experienced before. An electric shock sizzled him to his core.

  He looked down at her as he pulled her to the sidewalk, his heart pounding strangely as he helped her to her feet. Snowflakes suddenly began falling as she looked up, lingering in his arms.

  Then Holly’s gaze fell on the lacy white snowflakes. With a joyous laugh, she dropped his hand, looking up with wonder at the gray lowering sky.

  Without her warmth, Stavros again felt the winter chill beneath his tuxedo jacket. The world became a darker place, freezing him, reminding him he’d soon feel nothing at all. He stood very still, watching her. Then he lifted his face to the sky, wondering if this would be the last time he’d feel snowflakes on his skin.

  If only he could have at least left a child behind. He suddenly wanted that so badly it hurt. If only he could have left some memory of his existence on earth.

  But the women he knew were as ambitious and heartless as he was. He couldn’t leave an innocent child in their care. Children needed someone willing to put their needs above her own. He knew no woman like that. None at all.

 
Then he heard a laugh of pure delight, and Stavros looked down at Holly Marlowe’s beautiful, shining, tenderhearted eyes.

  “Can you believe it?” Stretching her arms wide, laughing like a child, she whirled in a circle, holding out her tongue to taste the snowflakes. She looked like an angel. Her eyes danced as she cried, “It’s snowing at my sister’s wedding! On Christmas Eve!”

  And all of the busy avenue, the tourists, the horse-drawn carriages, the taxis blaring Christmas music, faded into the background. Stavros saw only her.

  Copyright © 2019 by Jennie Lucas

  ISBN-13: 9781488044991

  The Italian’s Christmas Proposition

  Copyright © 2019 by Cathy Williams

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