The Unexpected Holiday Gift

by Sophie Pembroke

Of course, if she was wearing the dress he’d sent, he had a feeling she’d be hard to miss.

  ‘She’ll be here,’ his mother reassured him. ‘Eat some bread. You should never go into a stressful situation on an empty stomach.’

  ‘It’s not stressful!’ Heather said, reaching for her own wine. ‘It’s romantic. He’s paid thousands to be here tonight to tell her he loves her and he wants to be a family again.’

  ‘You make it sound easy.’ Meanwhile, just thinking about it made his hands shake with nerves. God, what was it about Clara that could drive him to such panic? He was never like this before a big business meeting.

  ‘It is! All you need to do is tell her, “I love you, I’m sorry, can we try again?”’ Heather said.

  ‘I think it might take a bit more than that.’ Such as an entire personality change from him. Oh, no, this was such a bad idea.

  ‘I think you’ll be surprised.’

  Before they could argue the point further, a small girl in a dark green velvet dress, complete with satin sash, came barrelling through the crowd towards them, a harried-looking Merry hurrying behind.

  ‘Jacob!’ Ivy squealed, throwing herself into his arms. ‘You came! Thank you for my dress—I love it!’

  Jacob let himself savour the feeling of those tiny arms around his neck, the scent of clean little girl and a sweetness he suspected had something to do with Merry sneaking her chocolate. He looked up at Clara’s business partner.

  ‘Clara’s double-checking things in the kitchen and briefing the entertainment for later. She’ll be here soon. Can I leave Ivy with you guys for dinner?’

  ‘Absolutely!’ Jacob’s mum beamed. Then, belatedly, she looked across at Jacob. ‘That’s fine, isn’t it, darling?’

  His first parental moment, pre-empted by his mother. He supposed it was inevitable.

  ‘Ivy will be fine here with us,’ he told Merry. ‘And, uh, if you see Clara...’

  ‘I will surreptitiously nudge her in this direction.’ Merry rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not like she doesn’t know you’re here, you know.’

  ‘So she’s avoiding me?’

  ‘She’s working,’ Merry said, looking amused. ‘I’d have thought you would have appreciated that.’

  Jacob returned her wry grin. He hadn’t been able to focus on work since Christmas.

  But then he looked up and saw Clara across the room, the dark red velvet dress he’d chosen for her clinging to her very familiar curves, and he knew he’d never be able to focus on anything else but her again.

  ‘Ivy? Are you okay staying here with Heather and my parents while I talk to your mum?’

  Ivy, who was already pulling a cracker with Heather, nodded.

  ‘Right. Then I’ll...go and do that.’ He paused for a moment.

  ‘Go on, son,’ his father said, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘You can do it.’

  Yes. He could. He hadn’t been sure in Scotland, but now...he knew exactly what he needed to do.

  Heather’s words came back to him. All you need to do is tell her, ‘I love you, I’m sorry, can we try again?’

  He could do that.

  ‘Clara?’ He crossed the ballroom towards her and lost his breath when she turned and faced him. It wasn’t just her beauty—formidable though it was. It was the connection, the instant spark of recognition he felt when their eyes met. The link that told him that whatever happened, however he screwed up, they were meant to be together. Always.

  Clara’s smile was hesitant. ‘Jacob...it was kind of you to buy the last table tonight. I know the Harrisons appreciate your generous donation. And I hope it means that maybe we can work something out between our families. I know Ivy would love to see more of Heather, and your parents.’

  ‘But not me?’ Jacob finished for her.

  ‘Well, that rather depends on you,’ Clara said, meeting his gaze. ‘And whether you’ve changed enough to make the commitment we need from you.’

  This was it, Jacob realised. His second chance. And he might not have the perfect plan but he had a heartfelt one. One that was good enough to make a start with, anyway.

  And if he screwed it up he’d just have to try harder.

  Jacob took a deep breath and prepared to change his life for ever.

  * * *

  Clara smoothed her hand over her dress, the weight of her ballgown giving her small courage as she waited to hear what he’d say. He’d paid a lot of money to be there. It couldn’t be the end of everything, as she’d thought. But could there really be a way through for them? She still wasn’t sure.

  And she knew it all hinged on Ivy.

  She glanced across and saw her daughter pulling a cracker with Jacob’s father and smiled. Her daughter had been so delighted with the dress Jacob had sent, so excited to be allowed to go with her this evening. The Harrisons had thought it a charming idea and, with Merry delegating so efficiently, Clara had very little to do at the gala but enjoy the evening.

  Right then, all she could see was Jacob, gorgeous and nervous and smiling in his tux.

  ‘I keep seeing children. Everywhere.’

  Clara blinked at his words in confusion.

  ‘There are...quite a lot of them in the world?’ she said.

  ‘Yes. But I never noticed them before. Not until I met Ivy.’ He took her arm and led her to the window, out of the way of the flow of the other guests. Outside, more lights flickered in the trees, bright and full of hope for the year ahead.

  Maybe Clara could be hopeful too.

  ‘And now?’ she asked.

  ‘Now I can’t stop seeing them. Can’t stop wondering if they’re older or younger than Ivy. What she was like at their age, or what she will be like. Whether she likes the same things. Obviously she’s prettier and cleverer and more wonderful than all of them...I can’t understand it, though. I only spent one day with her and suddenly she’s everywhere.’

  ‘She gets under your skin,’ Clara said. ‘Once I knew I was pregnant, I saw babies everywhere. And once she was born... She’s my first thought every morning when I wake up, and my last thought before I go to sleep.’

  ‘You used to say that was me,’ Jacob said, but he didn’t seem disappointed. More...proud?

  ‘It was,’ Clara admitted. ‘You were all I thought about. But being a parent, it changes you. In all sorts of good ways.’

  ‘You were everything to me too,’ Jacob said. ‘All that I could think about, any time of the day. I know you thought I ignored you and that I focused too much on work, but really I never stopped thinking about you, not for a moment. It was...everything. And terrifying. Because I didn’t know if I could cope if I hurt you, lost you.’

  ‘So you kept me at arm’s length.’ Just like he’d tried to do again at the castle.

  ‘Yeah. I think so.’

  ‘What about now?’ Clara asked.

  ‘Now...I’m still thinking about you. But not just about losing you. I’m thinking about all the possibilities we have, instead. I’m thinking about Ivy. I’m thinking about the life we could have together.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t want that.’ In fact, her entire existence for the past five years had hinged on the fact that the last thing he wanted was a family.

  ‘So did I,’ Jacob agreed. ‘Right up until the moment I realised that you had gone again, and this time you’d taken Ivy with you.’

  Clara grabbed hold of the window frame behind her. The world must be spinning off its axis because she felt a fundamental shift somewhere underneath everything she knew to be true. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’ve spoken to my real estate agent. I’m selling the houses—all those white, soulless designer places you hated. We’ll choose a new home together, the three of us. And I’m speaking with the board, working out a more family friendly sc
hedule. One that will work with your business commitments too, I hope.

  ‘Basically, I’m saying...I love you. I’m sorry. Can we try again?’

  Clara shook her head. ‘Jacob, we tried. So many times.’

  ‘Yeah, but this time we’ve got a better reason to succeed.’

  ‘What happened to you?’ Clara asked. ‘What changed? Because...I want to believe you. But I need to know why.’

  Jacob stood beside her and took her hand. ‘It was my father, mostly. He told me that success nearly always starts with failure. That the key is to keep trying for the things that matter. And you, Clara...you matter more than anything. You and Ivy. You’re all that matters.’

  ‘You never wanted to be a father.’

  ‘I was too scared to be a father. Too scared that I’d screw it up.’

  ‘Everyone screws it up. That’s what being a parent is all about.’ Hadn’t she learned that the hard way, over the past four years?

  ‘So my parents tell me,’ Jacob said with a wry smile. ‘And the thing is... I think, if we were screwing up and trying again together, if it wasn’t just me on my own, scared to death of failing...if it was us, I think I could do it.’

  ‘You have to be sure, Jacob. Ivy can’t take maybes. She’s four. She needs to know you’ll always be there.’

  ‘And will you?’ Jacob asked. ‘Will you be there for me, as well as her? Because if we do this...I need to know you won’t leave again.’

  Clara looked down at her hands, at where her wedding ring used to sit. ‘I will. I realised, this time... I can’t spend my life running away. I wanted to be wanted, and when I thought I wasn’t, I left. But with Ivy, I’m not just wanted, I’m needed. And that’s so much more important.’

  ‘She’s not the only one who needs you,’ Jacob said. Clara looked up to meet his open gaze and saw the truth of his words there. ‘I need you in my life, Clara. I need you there to pick me up when I fall, to hold me when things fall apart, to cheer me on when things are going well and to love me, all the time. And, most of all, I need you to let me do all those things for you too. Because I love you, more than I ever thought I could. More than I ever realised I would. You’re part of me and I can’t risk losing that part again. I need it. I need you.’

  Clara let out a choked sob and he pulled her against him, his arms warm and safe around her. ‘I need you too,’ she admitted. ‘Not because I can’t do it on my own—I know I can. It just doesn’t mean as much without you there.’

  ‘Then I’ll be there. For you and for Ivy. Whenever you need me. I promise.’

  ‘And I’ll be there too. I won’t leave again.’

  ‘And when we both screw up?’ Jacob asked. ‘Because I have it on good authority that we will. Things won’t be perfect all the time.’

  Clara shook her head. ‘They don’t need to be perfect. We just need to try. And when we screw up, we’ll try harder. Together.’

  ‘Together,’ Jacob echoed. Then he smiled. ‘Look,’ he said, nudging her chin upwards. ‘Mistletoe.’ She smiled. Apparently Merry had known what she was doing when sh e’d insisted on hanging it in all of the window alcoves.

  ‘Well, you’d better kiss me then,’ Clara said, her heart full to bursting. ‘And then we’ll go and tell Ivy that she just gained a family.’

  ‘She had us all along,’ Jacob said. ‘I just didn’t know it yet.’

  ‘And now that you do?’ Clara asked, in between kisses.

  Jacob grinned down at her under the mistletoe. ‘Now...’ he said. ‘This is officially my perfect Christmas.’

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A MISTLETOE KISS WITH THE BOSS by Susan Meier.

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  A Mistletoe Kiss with the Boss

  by Susan Meier

  CHAPTER ONE

  WHEN THE ELEVATOR bell rang in the lobby of the upscale Paris hotel, Kristen Anderson’s heart thumped. She spun to face the ornate wrought iron doors, her whole body shivering in anticipation—

  Two middle-aged American women got out.

  She didn’t have time to sag with disappointment, because someone tapped her on the shoulder and asked her a quiet question.

  In French.

  Which she didn’t speak.

  She turned around to see a man dressed in a suit, undoubtedly the desk clerk.

  Speaking English, because her native Grennadian was nearly unheard of, she said, “I’m sorry. I don’t speak French.”

  The elevator bell dinged again. Her head snapped toward the sound.

  In perfect English, the desk clerk said, “May I ask, mademoiselle, your business in our hotel?”

  She pointed at the tall, broad man exiting the elevator. “I want to see him.”

  She took two steps toward Dean Suminski, chairman of the board and CEO of Suminski Stuff, but the clerk caught her arm.

  “No, mademoiselle.” He shook his finger like a metronome. “You will not disturb a guest.”

  Walking toward her, Dean Suminski shrugged into a gorgeous charcoal-gray overcoat. His eyes were down. She guessed that was his way of ignoring anyone who might be around him. But she didn’t care. Getting him to visit Grennady and consider it as the place to relocate his company was her mission for her country. Approaching him was also practice for when she had to deal with men like him on a daily basis after she started her charitable foundation. One desk clerk wouldn’t stop her.

  “Sorry, Pierre.” She pulled her arm out of his short, stubby fingers. “Someday I’m going to build schools in third world countries. I have to learn to be brash.”

  She spun away from the clerk and shouted, “Mr. Suminski!”

  He totally ignored her.

  “Mr. Suminski! I know that’s you. I’ve seen your face on the internet.”

  He walked to the door.

  She scurried after him. “I just need two minutes.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the clerk point at a man behind another discreet desk. He nodded and bounded toward her. But Suminski walked out the door and she stayed on his heels, catching him when he stopped in front of a limo.

  “Seriously. Two minutes. That’s all I need.”

 
In the silence of the crisp early December morning, at a hotel set back, away from the congestion of Paris’s main thoroughfare, she heard his annoyed sigh and was surprised when he faced her.

  “Who are you?”

  With his dark eyes locked on her face, Kristen froze. His black hair was perfect, not a strand out of place. His high forehead, straight nose and high cheekbones could have made him a king.

  When she didn’t answer, he said, “Fine,” and began to turn away.

  “I’m Kristen Anderson,” she said, her voice coming out louder than it should. She sucked in a quick gulp of air and calmed herself. When she spoke again, it was quieter, smoother, and with authority. “Gennady would like you to consider moving your company to our country.”

  He faced her again. “Prince Alex would know I wasn’t interested.”

  Prince Alex was the husband of Kristen’s boss, Princess Eva. As executive assistant to Grennady’s future queen, Kristen knew Alex had immediately said no to considering Suminski Stuff as one of the tech companies being recruited to boost their flagging economy. But their options had run out. Dean’s was the only company left.

  “So that’s why you weren’t put on the list?”

  He smiled. But the movement wasn’t warm or friendly. More sarcastic. Almost frightening. “There’s a list?”

  “There was. It’s dwindled.”

  “To no one, I’m guessing, if they sent you to barge in on my day.”

  She swallowed. Those black eyes were just too intense—like they saw every damned thing going on in her head. She’d read that he was shrewd, uncanny in his ability to judge his opponents. Orphaned at four, raised by a cold grandmother who hadn’t wanted him, he’d played video games to amuse himself. At fourteen, he’d gone to business school because he’d taught himself to code and didn’t need any more instructions in computers. He was brilliant. He was arrogant. He was also their last chance.

  She opened her hands in supplication. “If you could give me two minutes of your time, I could persuade you to visit and make an assessment about whether or not you might consider, perhaps, moving your company to Grennady.”