The Billionaire's Holiday Bride

by Nadia Lee

  “I have the right to know how you’ve changed from the woman I thought I was marrying.”

  “Who did you think you were marrying?” she said, her voice sharp. “I was a girl from an average family in average circumstances who didn’t know any better. If I’d known, I would’ve never said yes at the grove.”

  “Even after spreading your thighs for me?” He’d been the first man to touch her so intimately, first to bring her to climax. She’d moaned, her face twisting with pleasure, and dug her fingernails into his bare, sweat-slickened back. He would never forget any of the details from all those years ago.

  Her face beet red, she jumped to her feet. He didn’t get up. He merely watched. Her sharp, precise diction dissolved until she sounded like the girl he’d just met all those years ago, and she gestured wildly with her arms.

  “Yeah, even after that. I would’ve slept with you ’til it was over. You woulda got tired of me, just like you do with every woman, and I woulda realized you weren’t the kind of man I could ever be happy with. I woulda never let myself dream of anything more, and I woulda found someone who didn’t expect me to pretend it didn’t hurt when he came home smelling of some harlot!” Her chest heaved. “I woulda found myself a man who wasn’t too proud to tell me he loved me, wasn’t too proud to forgive my mistakes, and who I could have been enough for!” Tears glistened in her eyes.

  The words were sledgehammers. His heart beat funny, like someone had pummeled him in the chest. He too rose to his feet, but she jerked backward and blinked as though coming out of a trance. Snatching her purse, she spun around and left.

  Cursing under his breath, he went after her.

  Ceinlys was surprisingly fast as she rushed out into the hall. But then she knew the layout of the mansion as well as he did.

  Al looked up from the foot of the stairs.

  “Don’t let her leave!” Salazar bellowed as the butler gaped at them.

  Ceinlys changed course, running back down the hall and slipping into the connected suite—the one she used to occupy. Salazar arrived a moment later and yanked on the door handle.

  Locked.

  “Open the door!” He banged on the unyielding wood, not caring about the scene he was making.

  “Go away! Go…find one of your bimbos!”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He shoved a hand into his hair. What the hell was the matter with him? He never raised his voice like this. A Pryce never raised his voice. “Ceinlys, this is ridiculous.”

  “I don’t care!” she yelled at him.

  “We’re too old for this sort of thing.”

  “Exactly. So go away before you have a heart attack. Better yet, have one!”

  “Ceinlys!”

  “I’m not coming out until I know you’re gone. I can see the driveway from this room.”

  “Do you know how absurd you’re being? I can kick this door down.”

  “By all means. It’s your door, not mine.”

  Salazar clenched his hands, then exhaled roughly. Kick the door down. What the hell?

  He’d never threatened anyone with anything approaching violence or a physical act. He and Ceinlys had never raised their voices and fought like this, ever.

  Damn it. The spectacle…

  He rubbed his face with his hand. Fuck. The entire staff had probably seen him chasing after her like an idiot.

  Shaking his head, he spun around and left.

  But he couldn’t help but think…

  This was the first time in forever he’d been totally unguarded and honest in his reactions.

  * * *

  Ceinlys sat at the edge of the queenly bed—still king-sized, though—and clasped her shaking hands together. Her breathing was still shallow, and her heart thundered liked she’d run a marathon, not down a corridor—albeit a long one.

  She’d thought she’d be honest with her ex-husband. It wasn’t as though pride or anything else mattered anymore. They were already divorced, and she didn’t want to make herself a hypocrite by lying while insisting that Jane be honest with Iain.

  What she hadn’t expected was his reaction. He’d acted like he was surprised by what she’d said. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d raised his voice or acted out how he felt.

  Have pride in yourself. Act with decorum. And always, always, always exercise self-control.

  Shirley’s cold instructions still rang in Ceinlys’s ears. She’d violated all three rules just now. She raised her eyes heavenward, half-expecting lightning to strike her down.

  But no. There was nothing. She actually felt…fine. Better than fine. Alive in a way she hadn’t been in years.

  Once her heart returned to its normal rhythm, she got up and looked around. The room was as she’d left it, but the housekeeper must’ve been dusting and cleaning it every day. The connection door to Salazar’s suite was shut, and she went over to make sure it was locked.

  After Shane had been born, she’d renovated the second level of the mansion so she could have her own bedroom. She could’ve simply moved to another suite, but she hadn’t wanted the staff’s tongues wagging. In retrospect, it had been a foolish thing to care about. They weren’t stupid. They could figure out why she’d stopped sharing Salazar’s bed.

  She glanced out from time to time to make sure Salazar would leave, but he never did. But then, he never did anything he didn’t want to.

  He never let anyone or anything get in his way.

  She pulled out her phone. After making sure she was completely composed and back under control, she called Paul and told him to wait for instructions. Then she dialed Iain.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said, his voice unusually cheery.

  She heard Jane giggle in the background. Well. That explained his good mood. “Hello, Iain. If Jane’s there, you should put me on the speaker, so she can hear me as well.”

  “Sure. Give me a sec.”

  A moment later, Jane said, “Hello, Ceinlys,” her voice sounding slightly tinny.

  “Hello, dear. Iain, your father insists that the grove won’t be ready by Christmas.”

  “Okay, well, no problem. I’ll pay for whatever venue you find,” Iain said.

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m going to figure something out.”

  “Mom. You don’t have to. I heard from dad, too. He said that you were working too hard to restore everything in time. I didn’t realize the damage was that bad.”

  Damn you, Salazar. Talking to the children as though he actually cared about her. His love had cooled a long time ago, maybe even before he’d overheard her conversation with Olivia. “Never fear, it isn’t. But maybe there is a point to avoiding the place. After all, Mark and Hilary did get married there.”

  “But can you actually find something this late?” Iain cleared his throat. “I know you’re busy with your move.”

  “That’s what movers are for, Iain. As for the wedding, I’ll think of something. You know I always do.” Ceinlys tapped her finger at the edge of her phone. “Have you made a guest list yet?”

  “Uh, yeah. I was about to send it to you,” Jane said. “It’s a very small ceremony—just our family. So twelve on Iain’s side and eleven on mine.”

  Ceinlys did some fast math. “Not bad, but aren’t you planning to invite any of Iain’s cousins? Two of them are in L.A. You may even know Elizabeth.”

  “Oh. I had no idea. I thought she lived in Virginia.”

  “You want to invite Ryder and Elizabeth?” Iain sounded somewhat shocked.

  “Why not? Unless you don’t want to.”

  “I feel like we should invite her,” Jane said. “I kind of owe her.”

  “But not Ryder?” Ceinlys pursed her lips. “You do realize it’s Ryder Reed? The actor?”

  As she’d suspected, Jane gasped. “What? The Ryder Reed?”

  “Yes.”

  “He is soooo hot!”

  Iain cleared his throat.

  “I mean, not as hot as you, honey. Obviously.”

  �
��Well?” Ceinlys prompted.

  There was a pause. “Probably not, unless Iain wants to. I mean, yeah, it would be really nice to say that Ryder Reed came to our wedding, but this is about us starting our lives together and being with people who love us and we love, not about having some celebrity over.”

  Jane’s answer tugged at the corners of Ceinlys’s lips. Iain had indeed chosen very well with this girl.

  Shirley, I promised you your grandchildren would marry well, far better than your son. And look. Iain is marrying a girl who cares only about him. What more can you ask for in a spouse?

  Ceinlys could almost hear her late mother-in-law’s coldly furious voice. Who cares about something as transient as love? Pedigree, my dear. Iain is marrying a girl far beneath his social station.

  Just as Salazar had. And Shirley had never let Ceinlys forget it.

  “We aren’t super close. And I doubt he’d be able to come anyway. He’s unbelievably busy all the time,” Iain said.

  Inspiration struck Ceinlys. “What if… Would it be terrible if you got married in a restaurant?”

  “A what?” Iain said.

  “Where?” Jane asked.

  “Éternité. It’s gorgeous—airy and bright. You can probably take the private loft. It has a balcony for both the ceremony and the reception. Mark always has lots of fresh flowers there anyway… I’m sure we can ask for a substitution and some extras and pay the difference.”

  “Oh my gosh!” Jane squealed. “That sounds…” She stopped. “Iain, what do you think?”

  “I’m fine with it if you like it.”

  “I think it’ll be lovely. And Éternité has the prettiest Christmas decorations.”

  Ceinlys couldn’t help but smile at Jane’s enthusiasm. The girl was right about Christmas at Éternité. Mark commissioned large, glistening white trees for the restaurant and hung gold, silver, green and red glass balls on every branch. “Excellent. I’ll speak with Mark then.”

  “Thank you,” Jane said. “You really are amazing.”

  Iain cleared his throat. “What Jane said. Thank you so much. Means a lot to us.” A fraction of a second, and he added, “Love you, Mom.”

  Ceinlys sighed in contentment at Iain’s warm tone. She’d always hoped he would speak to her with love in his voice one day, but feared it would never happen. She looked up at the ceiling, blinked rapidly and fanned her face. Why did she feel teary all of a sudden? Iain’s words were a good thing.

  “My pleasure. Love you, too,” she managed in a breezy tone.

  After she hung up, she texted Mark. A business and personal proposition, she typed. Can you hold the upper loft for Iain and Jane’s wedding on Christmas Eve?

  A few minutes later, Mark called. “Mom, are you sure?” he said without a preamble.

  “Iain and Jane thought it would be a good idea.”

  “I thought they were getting married at the grove.”

  “Yes, but the grove may not be restored in time.”

  “What happened there?”

  Ceinlys told him, leaving out Salazar’s obstructionist ways. Mark didn’t need to know that.

  “Wow. That sounds terrible. But you’re right. If it isn’t going to be all repaired by Christmas, there’s no way they can plan a wedding there. Anyway, sure. I can hold the upper loft for them.”

  “I’ll need an invoice.”

  “Why?”

  “Jane’s father’s insisted that he would pay for the ceremony.”

  “I see.”

  “But he’s practically family.”

  She didn’t have to say more. “Of course. Family discount. Can I email it to…?”

  “To me.”

  “Okay. Will do.”

  “Thank you, Mark. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  She closed her eyes as he hung up. He’d always been the openly affectionate and sweet child. So what if her marriage had fallen apart? She had amazing offspring. That was more than enough.

  Chapter Twelve

  Salazar pursed his mouth as he crossed out a few lines from the documents Kimberly had sent him. He hadn’t heard Ceinlys leave her old room.

  What was she still doing in there?

  It felt odd to know that she was back under his roof after nine months. For some reason the house seemed less empty. He rubbed the spot above his heart. The hollowness that had plagued him since the day he’d signed the divorce papers felt a little smaller.

  “What would you like to do about lunch?” Al asked.

  Salazar opened his mouth, about to say his habitual “Whatever’s handy,” but caught himself. “Lunch for two. Make it Ceinlys’s favorite.”

  If the request had surprised him, the butler didn’t show it. But he’d seen and heard a lot while working for the Pryces. “Very good, sir.”

  “And the keys.”

  Salazar didn’t have to clarify. Al returned with two keys.

  It didn’t take long before the maid brought a tray for two with dainty sandwiches, a carafe of tea and two servings of fresh seasonal fruit.

  Salazar picked it up and went to the door. “If you’re going to stay in there all day, you should at least have lunch,” he called out.

  Ceinlys didn’t respond.

  “It’s your favorite. The chef made special mustard mayo sandwiches, just for you.”

  The condiment was the chef’s secret ingredient. Nobody knew what went into it, other than mustard and mayonnaise. Speculation within the family was that it was something illicitly addictive since Ceinlys seemed unable to resist anything made with the chef’s secret sauce.

  Salazar gave it a few moments. “Well, if you don’t want yours… Guess I’ll just have to eat both of ’em…” He sat on the carpet and dug into one sandwich, emitting a disgustingly happy sound as he ate, making sure to be so loud that she couldn’t help but hear it. “Come on, Ceinlys. If you want to kick my ass, you’re gonna need to eat and recharge.”

  Still no answer.

  “Jesus, this sandwich really is great.” That wasn’t a lie. Salazar couldn’t remember having anything this good in a while. He decided to shut up and eat. If she really didn’t want hers…

  Finally the door opened, revealing Ceinlys. Her mouth was set as she glared down at him.

  “Good god, are you eating on the floor?”

  “No chairs in the hall,” he said, then paused. “Actually, I forgot to ask Al for one.”

  She stared at him with an unreadable gaze. “Bring it in.” She turned smartly on her heel and walked back inside. He grabbed the tray and followed.

  After he set it on the table between them, she picked up one of the small squares of sandwich. “This means nothing.”

  “Of course not.” He poured two glasses of iced tea. “Are you disappointed that I didn’t run off to one of my bimbos?”

  “Not particularly,” she said, her pleasant society matron mask back in place. “What you do is none of my business. I have no hold over you.”

  “Not that you ever considered what I did your business.”

  She sipped her tea. “I simply came to understand who I married.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “I married a man who could never be faithful. It didn’t matter what you vowed at the altar. If I’d taken people’s advice, I would’ve been able to avoid the whole sordid situation.”

  “You mean my mother’s advice.”

  She didn’t comment. Instead she studied her sandwich.

  “Were you ever angry at me?” he asked, nonchalantly popping another bite into his mouth. “Because of the…women?”

  She’d implied she was, but he had to be sure. It was impossible to believe she could’ve ever felt anything about those women after assuming for so long that she hadn’t.

  “Did you want me to be?”

  Yes. For the love of god, yes! “That’s not an answer.”

  “If you promise to answer a question for me honestly, I’ll tell you.”

  “Tit for tat
?”

  She raised the glass to her mouth, eyelashes hiding her eyes. “Something like that.”

  “Fine.”

  She inhaled sharply, then put down her tea. Her lips thinned for a moment, and he thought with disappointment that she might not answer after all. “Yes.”

  The single word loosened a knot in his belly that he hadn’t even realized was there. Maybe it had been a part of him for so long that he’d never felt it until now.

  “My turn. Why didn’t you leave me for that Georgia woman?”

  The quiet question punched him in the face like a heavyweight boxer’s fist. He stared at his ex-wife in abject horror and shock. “What brought this on?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That’s not an answer. Now tell me why. You loved her.”

  So many careless answers gathered in his mind, about to pour out. He’d used them, even on Blaine, the illegitimate son he’d had with Georgia Love Davis. I loved her, but couldn’t marry her because I could never be faithful to her and that would’ve really bothered her or some such bullshit. Salazar’s reputation being what it was, people bought it.

  Ceinlys cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”

  He wanted to lie to her. Fuck, why the hell was she interested in Georgia Love now? She was dead. Had been dead for years.

  But he’d promised.

  He glared at his iced tea, wishing it were something stronger. “I could’ve never left you for her.”

  “Because she was the kind of woman who deserved a faithful husband?” Ceinlys’s mask was still on, but there was a small crack, through which he could glimpse…an old pain. And the sight of it made him feel…low. Like he’d stomped on a butterfly.

  He chugged down the tea, then placed the empty glass on the tray with a clink. “No. Because I couldn’t leave you, even though I wanted to.

  Something in his voice made her frown. “Salazar. Was there a point when you seriously considered divorcing me?”

  “There was. And it took a hell of a lot of resolve to decide to do it. But before I could say anything, you told me you were pregnant with Dane, and that gave me an excuse to go back on my decision. And after that…I just couldn’t.”

  Even when he realized he’d been played, he couldn’t let her go. The idea of not having her within reach had hurt and infuriated him.