The Millionaire's Miracle

by Cathleen Galitz

  Gillian was honestly sorry to see them go. She stood in the doorway a long time, watching their retreating figures cut a path through the snow. The roar of their snowmobiles died away before her father saw fit to close the door on the cold air that rushed to fill the house with their absence.

  Thirteen

  Once they were all settled in the living room, John suggested a game of cards. They spent the next couple of hours filling the room with the sounds of good-natured ribbing that brought back childhood recollections for Gillian as crystalline as the snow that began falling softly outside.

  “This is the best Christmas I can remember since your mother passed away,” her father said at one point.

  She agreed.

  It was nice to laugh and enjoy familiar company again. To be sure, it had been too long since Gillian had asked herself what she wanted out of life—beyond tamping down any memory that might bring back the pain she’d felt after Bonnie’s death. Unfortunately, she’d also buried any memories with the power to heal the hurt, as well.

  She knew Bryce thought she was crazy for giving up a successful career to return to a life she’d left so long ago. But the funny thing was she hadn’t felt more certain about anything since Bonnie had died and left her so unsure about absolutely everything.

  Gillian wasn’t about to be dissuaded from that gut feeling by anything as mundane as logic. She’d listened to her head too much since that horrible day, and all she’d managed to do was forget how to live.

  She leaned over the edge of the table to kiss her father on his roughened cheek. In spite of his deteriorating health, the hug she received in return was strong enough to crush her bones but luckily not the heart she’d so recently taken out of storage. She was still having trouble dismissing the nagging suspicion that her father had exaggerated his condition in hopes of bringing her back together with the son-in-law for whom he still cared so deeply.

  Too bad it didn’t work, she thought wistfully.

  Returning her attention to the card game, she grinned when she noticed her hand. “Gin!” she yelled.

  Slapping his cards down on the table, John glared at her.

  “Do I really want somebody running this place who’d cheat her own father at cards?”

  Since Bryce had flatly turned down her father’s request to run his empire, Gillian wondered if he wasn’t really worried about how she would manage a place of this size alone.

  “I don’t know. Do you?”

  Her father’s expression grew suddenly pensive as he gave the question some thought.

  “Only if it’s what you really want, Gillian. I don’t want you giving up your life to move home. Taking care of an old coot like me isn’t exactly the future your mother and I envisioned for our baby girl.”

  Gillian smiled as she attempted to explain her reasoning to everyone in the room. Including herself.

  “Some of the dreams we have for our children are taken out of our hands,” she said, fighting back a sense of melancholy. “And some are miraculously given back when we least expect it. I loved Bonnie fiercely, but I don’t think she would have wanted me to tie myself to a stressful job and lock myself away in an empty apartment. Yes, I admit I was hesitant to come home, but it’s been the smartest decision I’ve made since she passed. It’s made me remember how important it is to hold on to the people we love for as long as we can.”

  Looking at Bryce through a sheen of tears, Gillian wished she could make him understand how sorry she was about the part she’d played in everything that had gone wrong between them.

  Her explanation seemed to satisfy her father, if not her ex-husband. “It’s good to know that somebody loves me for more than money alone,” he said.

  Dropping her gaze, Gillian found she couldn’t look her father in the eye. She felt terrible for the way her sisters had acted and hoped that, in time, she could help her family heal.

  Turning to Bryce, he added, “The richer you become, you’ll find the more that will mean to you.”

  That said, he excused himself from the game and shuffled down to his room, using the wall for leverage the entire way.

  In the distance, the lonely refrain of a coyote’s song echoed off the cliffs surrounding the ranch on three sides. The sound caused an unexpected sense of panic to well up in Bryce’s chest at the thought of leaving Gillian and her father all alone to fend for themselves. Not the type given to “analysis paralysis,” he rose impatiently to his feet, wishing there were some easy way to put his worries behind him.

  “I’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. With your father’s affairs in order and your mind made up about taking over the responsibility of the ranch, there’s really no reason for me to hang around any longer.”

  “There’s no hurry,” Gillian said.

  “There is if I want to make it back by midnight Christmas Day and I told Robbie that I’d take him to a ball game in Denver. I don’t intend to break another promise to someone I love for as long as I live.”

  He was thinking about his promise to always be there for Gillian, the one he’d broken the day his baby had died and Gillian had been so alone she’d nearly gone out of her mind waiting for him to arrive.

  Bryce pushed aside those heavy memories to focus on something more affirming. “Before I go, I have something for you, too.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Gillian protested.

  She followed meekly as he led the way into the other room and sat her down in front of the Christmas tree. The look on her pretty face as she watched him rustling around in the tree’s branches made Bryce glad that he had acted on impulse. With a flourish, he extracted a tiny envelope with her name neatly written on it. He shook off a couple of strands of tinsel that were clinging to his sweater before handing it to her. Inside she found a gilt business card with the name Carl Hartman embossed upon it. He was one of her favorite artists, a local who had made quite a name for himself on the prestigious Jackson Hole art scene. The commission on one of his paintings alone was often as much as Gillian made selling a house in Cheyenne.

  “Before our flight, I sent Carl a copy of the photograph of Bonnie in my bedroom and asked him to duplicate it in oil for you. He’ll have it done in a couple of months.”

  His voice suddenly broke as he took her hand in his. “It’s dedicated to all that we once shared, not everything we lost.”

  Seeing her dab at her eyes with the back of her hand, he could barely refrain from wrapping his arms around her. Seized by emotions beyond his control, he felt his heart trip over the possibility that they could finally let the past go and embrace it at the same time.

  “You have no idea how much this means to me,” Gillian said, truly touched by Bryce’s thoughtful gift.

  Not so long ago she questioned whether she could live with such a poignant image openly displayed in her home for fear that the memories evoked would incapacitate her. Today a ray of sunshine pierced the shroud of darkness that had been holding her hostage for so very long. She’d come full circle returning home and she was now able to let go of past hurts and wanted to share her newfound sense of redemption with the man she’d lashed out at during a time when they should have been offering each other comfort.

  “I-it was wrong of me to blame you for not being there when Bonnie…”

  Swallowing hard, Gillian steadied herself by laying a hand on Bryce’s chest. The beat of his heart against her palm stirred old emotions.

  “No one can predict SIDS,” she said, quoting from the stacks of materials she’d waded through after the tragic turn of events that changed their lives. “You couldn’t have possibly known what was going to happen any more than I could. No one could. Otherwise you would have been there. I know that nothing could have kept you away. I hope you can forgive me for ever insinuating otherwise.”

  Bryce sucked a breath into his lungs, breaking the silence that followed her apology.

  “That you can ask me to forgive you…” His voice cracked like icicles driv
en into frozen ground by the force of their own weight. “I’m the one who desperately needs you to forgive me.”

  Gillian tilted her face toward the twinkling Christmas lights and blinked back the tears welling to the surface. Raw with need, she let him take her into his arms. Lust finally sheared away the last of his restraint as he muttered an unintelligible oath and claimed her mouth.

  Hot, wild and wet, his kisses awakened a feral response in Gillian. Linking her arms around his neck, she offered herself to him as the final present under the tree. Although she could not hope to have him for more than one night, she silently vowed that if he would just give her one more chance, she would somehow find the courage to make her days worthwhile, if not truly enchanted by a more lasting love, when he was gone.

  Even if it meant sustaining herself on memories alone.

  Seeing herself reflected in his eyes, which were blazing with desire, Gillian never felt more beautiful. She reveled in the warmth of his skin against her hands as she drew his sweater slowly over his head. A moment later she was resting her head against the wide expanse of his bare chest. Passion sizzled as they surrendered to their desires.

  “Gillian,” he murmured into her hair.

  The huskiness of Bryce’s voice was both rough and tender. She tore her jersey over her head, then stood still in the glowing light of the fireplace and allowed him to admire her breasts as she reached behind her back and divested herself of the scrap of lace that restrained them.

  They discarded the rest of their clothes in a frenzy without regard to where they fell. Their urgency to be together defied the logic that compelled Bryce to take a condom from his wallet. Considering that they’d been unable to conceive a child for months after Bonnie’s death, Gillian thought it a waste of time. He gave her no chance to voice any objections, though, and a moment later she was begging him to take her.

  Drawing her to her knees on the carpet, he asked in a strangled voice, “Are you sure about this?”

  Gillian didn’t have the courage to ask him the same question.

  “I want you in me now,” she said instead.

  That throaty command rendered foreplay unnecessary. Gillian pushed him onto his back, climbed on top of him and, without stopping to consider his impressive size, braced herself by clutching his shoulders and claiming him all at once.

  Groaning, Bryce took her by the hips and guided her movements in a way that maximized his pleasure while simultaneously intensifying hers.

  Throwing her head back, she gasped as their bodies, their souls became one. Gillian moaned. Called out Bryce’s name. And said a little prayer to commit every loving detail of this night to memory.

  Tangling his hands in her hair, Bryce drew her down to him and kissed her. Those slow, measured kisses matched the rhythm of his driving force. When she made the slightest move to change position, he merely tightened his grip.

  “I’ll let you go when I’m good and ready,” he growled, keeping the hot, delicious slickness of his mouth centered on hers.

  He disentangled his fingers from her hair and focused on caressing the silky-smooth length of her body. Tenderly he dawdled over the small of her back before moving onto her rib cage and stopping to explore the swell of her breasts pressed against his chest. Gillian whimpered into the hollow of his collarbone.

  Bryce would have none of it.

  “I want you to look at the man who’s making love to you,” he commanded, thrusting into her with ragged, shuddering breaths.

  Gillian did as she was told. Digging her fingernails into his shoulders, a moment later she crested on an orgasm that took her out of her body. Multicolored lights exploded behind her eyes as Bryce joined her someplace suspended between heaven and earth.

  His whole body shuddered as he poured himself into her. Cherishing the beat of his heart beneath her own, Gillian held him tightly to keep him exactly where she wanted for as long as she wanted.

  Chests heaving, they clung to each other beneath the glimmering Christmas lights and the watchful eyes of the angel standing guard atop the tree. Their tangled limbs and a blazing fire kept the cold away until they could no longer ignore that either a blanket or a change of rooms was necessary.

  “Want to take a shower with me?” Bryce asked, rubbing away the shivers rising along her bare arms.

  Having already enjoyed her sin so completely, Gillian saw no point in forgoing the pleasures of the flesh before the morning sun dictated that she had to. Surely there would be time for regrets and recriminations later.

  She held out her hands. “Help me up.”

  Bryce pulled her to her feet as if she were made of nothing more than fluff. Together, they padded up the stairs naked to the master bathroom where he turned on the water and adjusted it to the right temperature before they both stepped inside.

  Parts of Gillian that were sore from their lovemaking welcomed the gentle massage of water. Dizzy from the aftereffects, she leaned against Bryce’s strong, hard body and willed the warm water to wash away her guilt.

  Was there anything worse than discovering that she was still in love with the man she’d divorced?

  Perhaps only the terrible knowledge that he no longer felt the same way about her.

  Refusing to belabor that which she could not change, Gillian proceeded to soap Bryce’s back with great tenderness. She rubbed shampoo into his hair and massaged his head gently with her fingernails, making him so content he was almost purring.

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” he said, intent on returning the favor.

  He proceeded to soap her breasts, sore from the demanding caresses they’d received earlier, only to inflict more sweet abuse upon them with his mouth, suckling her beneath the warm, running water. Gillian pressed her back against the wall, making no move to escape when he followed the brazen act by dropping to his knees in front of her. She gave in to more than just the guttural sounds welling up inside her and opened herself to everything he had to offer. The delicious pressure of his tongue made her explode into a million flickering fragments of light.

  They had to have been in the shower a long time for the hot water heater gave out. Shutting off the tepid stream, Bryce helped Gillian out of the stall and offered to dry her off with a big, white fluffy towel.

  “I can barely stand up,” she admitted, grateful that he had the strength to carry her down the hall to his bedroom.

  They spent the rest of the night in a sturdy hand-carved bed, wrapped in nothing more than clean sheets and each other’s loving arms. Tomorrow Gillian knew that life would fall back into place as if nothing more than civil words had passed between them. But knowing she had a lifetime left to rue the past, she chose to enjoy this one magical night.

  Sex with Bryce had always been wonderful, but by the end of their marriage, they’d deliberately turned their backs on each other in the bed they’d shared, unable to reach out to the other. After tonight Gillian didn’t know how she could ever go back to sleeping alone.

  Smiling past her tears, she was rewarded with an encore of kisses and caresses that resurrected something inside her that felt too much like hope.

  Fourteen

  “I could never stop loving you, no matter how hard I tried,” Gillian whispered in the dark.

  The words rocketed into Bryce’s brain like a heat-seeking missile, destroying any preconceptions he might have had about the night being a farewell to the past before they finally went their own separate ways once and for all.

  He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the possibility that Gillian still loved him.

  Had never actually stopped loving him.

  Moved by the raw emotion shimmering in her soft violet eyes, his whole being cried out with the realization that he loved her, too.

  But he could never admit it.

  Studying her silhouette in the moonlight, he was certain that there wasn’t a single molecule in her body that he didn’t cherish. Awake or asleep Gillian was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. That didn�
�t mean there could ever be anything between them again, though. After the way their marriage had crumbled, he couldn’t see how something permanent could be built out of the rubble.

  One maddening little phrase kept repeating itself over and over in his head. Too little, too late.

  In the silence following Gillian’s sex-induced admission, Bryce heard her stop breathing. Reaching over to place his hand over her heart, he found her skin still damp from their lovemaking.

  She directed her gaze to the base of his throat. “I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she mumbled. “So damned sorry.”

  In response to the shudder that ran the length of her body, Bryce wrapped his arms tightly around her. He couldn’t let her go like this, racing for the safety of her own bed, leaving him to suffer in the silence of what he could not bring himself to say.

  “I’m also sorry for what I just told you,” she added in a hoarse whisper. “Given where you are in your life right now, it was wrong of me.”

  Bryce could love her no less for gathering her pride about her like the sheet she drew over her breasts.

  “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he conceded. “Any more than I should have ever made love to you. For God’s sake, Gillian, I’m engaged to another woman! Someone who put her trust in me when I promised that there was nothing left between you and me.”

  “Vi doesn’t have to know.” Her voice was flat.

  For the second time in less than five minutes, Bryce couldn’t believe his ears.

  “Is that how little you think of me?” he demanded, letting her go roughly. “Do you really think I could marry another woman with a lie of that magnitude hanging over my head? We made a mistake, Gillian. You know that as well as I do, and Vi needs to know.”

  “The truth isn’t going to absolve you, and it won’t do anything but hurt her, either,” Gillian said evenly in response to his rising voice. “Maybe it wasn’t right, but we were two lonely people who hurt each other in the past and somehow managed to put that hurt behind them for a single night. That isn’t the worst thing that could ever happen.”