Millionaire Under the Mistletoe

by Stefanie London

  “Will you hurry up?” Ethel said. “We’ll all catch our deaths out here.”

  He locked his Jaguar and went to the door, slipping the key in the lock and pushing it open for the women to enter ahead of him. The gasp from Ethel was worth it all.

  “You’ve gussied this place up,” she said, looking around. “Your mother would have loved it.”

  “We’re hoping you love it,” Stella said, slipping her arm around Ethel’s small shoulders. “Evan put a lot of time into fixing this place up because he wanted to surprise you. Merry Christmas.”

  Evan watched the two women, for whom he cared very deeply, exchange hugs. His heart was full and for the very first time he didn’t care about his dreams of being a hotelier. He didn’t care if he won the bet with Stella. He didn’t care if she wanted to keep the estate for herself.

  He only cared that he’d finally grasped what mattered in life.

  A few hours later, they’d finished dinner and Stella’s eyes were starting to droop. Ethel had agreed to sleep in her new bed after some convincing that she wasn’t putting anyone out and that he and Stella would be fine to make their own breakfast in the morning. No retirement plans were mentioned yet, but he figured that was a discussion for another day.

  “Come on, let’s head back to the estate. We don’t want to accidentally interrupt Santa.” He glanced at Stella to see if he’d coaxed a smile but she was busy slipping her arms into her coat.

  “Drive carefully,” Ethel said as she shooed them out of her new home. “And don’t come for me too early tomorrow morning. I like a lie in on Christmas Day.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your beauty sleep,” Evan said with a laugh.

  “You’d better not. God only knows I need it.” She laughed and closed the door behind them.

  The snick of the lock seemed to echo in the silent night. Stella hovered for a moment before setting off toward the car, her head bowed against the chill. Their feet crunched against the frost-covered gravel as Evan tried to think about how he would start talking to Stella. She’d remained distant through dinner. Not enough to make it awkward, but she wasn’t her usual self. He would never describe Stella as bubbly, but she liked to engage in conversation. To chip in with her opinion on a topic, or play devil’s advocate in a discussion. But tonight she’d smiled as Ethel relayed old stories, telling her all about her father and her real mother. How they’d loved the estate and how much more they’d loved each other.

  “I think she liked what we did with the place,” he said as he slid into the driver’s seat.

  “What you did with the place.” She stared through the windscreen into the night. “I’m not going to take credit for your hard work.”

  “Well, Matt and his contractors did most of the heavy lifting. I only took care of the finishing touches.”

  He flicked the high beams on and lit the road ahead. Shadows bounced as the wind pushed the trees around. The road was slick, so he took it slowly, easing the Jaguar up toward the estate at a crawl. Stella remained quiet.

  When he parked again, they got out of the car and she hurried toward the door. But his legs were longer than hers and they ate up the distance before she could slip into the house ahead of him.

  “I was hoping we could talk,” he said as they stepped into the foyer.

  The house was dark, except for the twinkle of lights on the Christmas tree in the sitting room. The soft flicker played like music across her cheeks, hiding her expression in the shadows. “I’m tired, so I think I’ll head off to bed. Thank you for dinner, though.”

  “Stella.” He reached out for her hand. “Five minutes is all I need.”

  She pulled her hand back out of his grip and wrapped her arms around herself. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  “If I don’t say what I need to say now I’m going to end up shouting it in my sleep.” He rubbed at his face, desperation clawing at his insides. The words had been building, growing. They pushed at his lungs and heart, applying pressure to all the areas that ached since he’d done the most stupid thing in his entire life.

  “Well, I guess we can’t have that now, can we?” she said. When he started walking toward the sitting room, she followed.

  That has to be a good sign, right?

  “No, we can’t.” He flicked on a lamp and could finally see the wariness in her face.

  He’d done that to her; he’d put that line between her brows and pulled down the edges of her mouth. All because he’d been too scared to go out on a limb and confess how he felt. About her. About them.

  “What did you want to say?” she asked. “If it’s about the estate—”

  “It’s not. It’s about you.”

  Her blue-green eyes regarded him cautiously. “What about me?”

  “I owe you an apology.” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the little lump that pressed against his windpipe. “I handled the situation badly the other day and I’m sorry for that.”

  “The truth hurts.” She lifted one shoulder into a delicate shrug.

  “Lying hurts worse.” He sucked in a breath. How was it possible he could command entire boardrooms during a presentation but the sight of one petite, prickly woman was enough to bring him to his knees? “And I did lie to you.”

  “Is this the part where you tell me that you really have feelings for me and all this time you’ve been denying it because you were scared?” She put her hand to her chest and pretended to swoon. “Spare me. I’m going to sell you the estate, okay? You’ve got what you wanted, now leave me be.”

  Shaking her head, the slightest tremble in her lips telling him that she wasn’t as glib as she wanted to appear. She turned to leave the room.

  “Except I haven’t.” His words halted her. “I thought I wanted the estate…I guess, I still do. But not at the expense of something far more important.”

  She had her back to him, her shoulders hunched forward. But she’d stopped and that meant he had an opening. Even if it was only the tiniest little crack, it was something to work with.

  “Ever since you arrived, I’ve been…not myself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  What had Matt said? Go without an agenda?

  “Normally, when I sleep with a woman I don’t think about them after the fact. It’s not malicious, but I just don’t care.”

  She huffed. “Gee, how gentlemanly of you.”

  “It’s a need that I fulfil like any other need.” Relief spread through him as she turned, slightly. Giving him a glimpse of her profile. “When I’m attracted to a woman, I take her to bed. I have a good time, I make sure she has a good time, and then we part ways amicably. But I can’t do that with you.”

  “The parting ways bit or the amicable bit?” Her eyes focused somewhere ahead of her, but he could see how finely tuned she was to him. How much she needed to know the answer to her question.

  “The parting ways bit.” He took a step closer and, when she didn’t retreat, he took another. “And maybe the amicable bit. Because I can tell you now, if you leave on Boxing Day like you’ve planned, I’ll be a mess.”

  “You, a mess?” A smile quirked on her lips. “Outrageous. You’ve never got a hair out of place.”

  “Oh, I’ll look fine. I always do, but on the inside it’ll be carnage.” He blinked, taken aback by the rush of emotion that welled in the back of his throat. “If I lose you now because I was too bloody frightened to tell you how I felt, it’ll be the biggest mistake of my life.”

  …

  Stella’s heart pounded against her ribcage. Her fight or flight response was all confused—she wanted to run and hide under the covers, and she wanted to throw herself into his arms at the same time. But she had to be sure it wasn’t a ploy, that she wasn’t going to face him down and get rejected for a third time. Her heart couldn’t take it again.

  “Didn’t you hear me, Evan?” She sucked in a shaky breath and steeled herself. “You can have the estate. You don’t need to do
this.”

  “If it means losing you, I don’t want it.”

  “But all your plans…?” She turned to him, struck by how magnificent he looked backlit by the Christmas tree. The lights played a silent tune, winking at her and catching the highlights in his hair. His eyes no longer seemed cold and remote, and it felt like she was looking at him for the first time.

  “My only plan now is to convince you that I love you, that I have loved you for a stupidly long time.” His jaw twitched. “Sometimes I think I’m doing the right thing by protecting myself, because that’s how I got by for so long. It was all I knew. I never let people see anything other than what I wanted them to see. But you did, you refused to stay on the other side of my walls.”

  Her chest squeezed. She wanted so desperately to believe that he loved her. That he wanted her—not her land, not her money, not her name. “A relationship can’t function if only one side is willing to put the work in. I learned that the hard way.”

  “Stella, I will work every day to make up for hurting you. You deserve someone who’ll make you the core of their world, and I’ll do that.” He held out his hand, his palm open. Inviting. “Come here, I have something for you.”

  This is it. Walk away forever or let go and fall.

  Her body was in chaos—she was a heart pounding, palms sweating, stomach flipping mess. But Evan was her happy place. The nights she’d spent in his arms were some of the best in her life. With him, she could be herself. She wasn’t trying to please him, to win a gold star to force him to like her. He did that all on his own. She never had to try to be someone else around him.

  “Okay.” The word almost dissolved on her tongue, but she got it out and slipped her hand into his.

  “It’s not much, but it’s something that means a lot to me.” He took her to the tree, where a small item sat under the branches almost hidden in the dim light. The velvet box was battered, worn. The gentle flocking had rubbed away to reveal to bald patches on the corners. “This belonged to my mother.”

  He opened the box to reveal a small, simple locket. The silver heart was tarnished, and it hung from a chain so fine a breeze could have snapped it in two. But to Stella, it looked like the most precious thing in the world.

  “She wore it every day of her life until she went into the facility. They uh…didn’t allow valuables there. Not that it’s likely worth much.” His finger traced the edge of the clasp. “She asked me to keep it for when I met a girl, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that would never happen. But she was so upset that there was no wedding ring for her to pass down that I took the locket and never looked at it again…until today.”

  Tears pricked the back of Stella’s eyes as she watched Evan fight back his memories. He’d carried so much pain around, it was no wonder he had trouble opening up. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “I’m sure you have a million things that are worth more than it.”

  “Only if you count re-sale value as a true measure of worth.” She reached out to touch his face, her hand cupping his jaw. “I don’t.”

  “I want you to stay,” he said, taking the locket out of the box and fiddling with the clasp. It took him a third attempt before the damn thing would open. “With me.”

  He laid the locket against her chest and brought the fine chain around behind her neck. Stella’s breath stuck in her throat the entire time, almost as if her lungs were on pause until he looked her in the eyes again. His hands brushed her hair aside, gentle and sure of himself. He knew how to touch her, and even tender as he was, his hands held a promise that they would make her body sing.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I love you, Evan.”

  He turned her to face him and before she could say another word, his lips were on hers. Prying. Coaxing. Whispering. Then she was airborne and cradled by his arms as he carried her to the couch.

  “We’re not even going to make it upstairs?” she teased.

  “Well, you’re the lady of the manor, now. We can do whatever we like.”

  For the first time in a very long time, Stella felt like she’d finally come home. “How about we do forever?”

  Epilogue

  Eleven months later

  Stella’s hands stuck straight out in front of her, certain that with each step that she was about to tumble to her death. Why Evan insisted on blindfolding her she had no idea. He hadn’t even let her kick off her heels after the fancy brunch they’d attended in London.

  “Do we really have to look at this now?” she asked as he led her down the path to her grandfather’s garden.

  “I thought you wanted to see it? We spent so much money on that damn fountain you wanted,” he grumbled.

  “I bet it looks like a million bucks. If we want to attract high-class clientele, then we need high-class decorations.” She grinned. “Besides, I’m in charge of the design, remember.”

  “Well then you can damn well come and look at it,” he said.

  She could hear the smile in his voice and her mind filled in the blanks—the twitch of his lips, the crinkles that bracketed his eyes more and more. She wasn’t sure he’d smiled enough to earn those lines before, but now his face was constantly lit with happiness. As was hers.

  It had taken Stella almost six months to really leave Australia behind. They’d survived on Skype calls and him flying back and forth until she’d wrapped up her job and sold her apartment on the Gold Coast. Strangely enough, selling the place hadn’t hurt at all. She had more bad memories there than good, but selling her surf board on the other hand…

  She still mourned its absence.

  “We’re almost there,” he said as he coaxed her farther down the hill. “And I may have added a few extra touches to the fountain design.”

  “What? You’ve gone rogue on me, Foss.” She shook her head, laughing. “I thought I was supposed to do all the design bits. I can’t trust you after you tried to put gold and silver together in the bathrooms.”

  “I’m confident you’ll like this change,” he said smugly.

  “You’re too damn confident for your own good.”

  The came to a stop and the scent of flowers tickled Stella’s nose—they’d added a few rose bushes for a traditional feel back when the weather was warm. And they’d decided on a small fountain to be nestled against a thick cluster of greenery to make the garden feel more tranquil.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She shivered as the cool air swept over her skin. Winter wasn’t for another month but it already felt as though the temperature had dropped. “Let’s do it so I can get back inside.”

  Warm hands caressed her face, the brush of his lips startling her while black silk still covered her eyes. She opened to him without protest. His tea and cinnamon taste was familiar to her now and she found herself longing for it on the days when they worked away from one another.

  His fingers slipped the blindfold gently from her eyes. “What do you think?”

  “Oh, it’s gorgeous!” Her lips broke into a wide smile at the sight of the elegant fountain against the stunning greenery. Rich reds and soft pinks dotted the garden and the sound of running water soothed her nerves. “It’s perfect.”

  “Take a closer look.” His hand came to her back and he steered them into the garden.

  Something caught her eye at the edge of the fountain’s lip, a little gold plate with engraving. Her eyes darted to Evan and he couldn’t contain his grin. “What have you done?”

  “Just look.” He gave her a gentle shove.

  The plate had her grandfather’s name engraved across the top with his date of birth and death. A lump lodged itself firmly in her throat. A quote had been written underneath, something he’d said often to her as a young girl.

  The only way you’ll see the stars is if you brave the dark.

  “Oh, Evan.” Her hand fluttered at the base of her neck, her fingers reaching for the locket that always sat there. “That’s such a beautiful touch.”


  She turned to face him and had to drop her eyes. He was down on one knee, a small navy box in his hand. Inside glittered a diamond ring with a single white stone. The design was simple, elegant. Timeless. Exactly what she would have chosen for herself.

  “Stella, it has occurred to me that I’m asking a lot,” he said. “You’ve already moved to the other side of the world for me, but I want you to do one more thing.”

  Her heart was so full that she couldn’t even bring herself to make a witty comment. “What is it?”

  “Will you give me the chance to be the husband you deserve? I vow to always decorate the Christmas tree according to your rules.” His icy-green eyes sparkled. “I will not partake in any gateway activities like wearing mismatched socks.”

  Laughter bubbled up in her throat. “Well, how could I possibly say no to that?”

  Evan rose and slipped the ring out of its box. Her breath hitched as he took her hand, holding her with reverence as he slipped the ring on. It glinted under the late afternoon light, sparkling and flashing like the Christmas lights had as she’d given in to that fateful kiss.

  “Stella Jackson, will you marry me?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She flung her arms around his neck and almost toppled them both with the force of her kiss.

  One word had ever held so much weight before. So much possibility. And, for the girl who’d had loneliness as her shadow, she’d never felt so loved.

  “How did I do?” His lips brushed her ear and her neck, his kissed moving from sweet to hungry as they stood alone in the garden. “If you tell me that was a C for originality I’ll be crushed.”

  “A-plus all around,” she said with a grin. “You’re a good student.”

  “I have a good teacher.” His forehead came to a rest against hers.