The Billionaire's Holiday Bride

by Nadia Lee

  His gaze grew intense, an emotion too strong to merely be labeled love seething in his eyes. “I’m the luckiest man ever to have you.” His hand wrapped gently around her nape, and he slanted his mouth over hers.

  As aching yearning bloomed inside her, she was overwhelmed with gratitude that they hadn’t given up on each other all those years ago…

  Because not having this?

  Unthinkable.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Why are we meeting so early?” Ceinlys asked four days after the Thanksgiving dinner. Salazar was standing outside the mansion, rather than waiting for her in his study.

  Salazar flipped his keys in the air and caught them. “Thought you might want to go check out the roses from the nursery.”

  Her mouth parted slightly. “You found Osirias?”

  “Like you said, I can do whatever I want.”

  He held open the door to his green 1965 Aston Martin DB5 convertible. It had a vanity plate: 2HOT4U. Ceinlys cocked an eyebrow. He rarely if ever drove that car. The last time they’d driven in it together was when he’d taken her to the grove and proposed. He’d later confessed he’d needed the courage, hence the James Bond-mobile.

  “This is unusual,” she murmured, sitting inside the priceless car.

  “Nothing you don’t deserve.”

  She looked at him sharply, but a pair of sunglasses hid his eyes. The button-down shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing tight forearms. Despite his age, he didn’t have any dark spots on his skin or obvious signs of elderliness. But then everyone in his family seemed to age with grace and beauty.

  “So. Do they have enough for the grove?”

  “Maybe. I haven’t asked,” he said. “I wanted to make sure they were exactly what you wanted.”

  “You chose them last time.” She’d seen them at a show while they’d been dating. When she’d told him how much she loved them, he’d bought twenty-five bushes for the grove.

  “I know, but you’re in charge now.”

  She looked outside. It felt odd to be in control of something that the Pryce family owned. She had never been able to do much without somebody’s approval—mainly Shirley’s.

  “The dinner wasn’t too terrible,” he said after a moment.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Except for Geraldine trying to be a pain, but Ceinlys could deal with her former sister-in-law. She was an amateur compared to Salazar. “When was the last time we had a normal family dinner?”

  “Hmm… Probably before Shane was born.”

  “You’re right.”

  She studied him. The breeze ruffled his hair, and he looked impossibly handsome and arresting, like that moment he’d taken her breath away for the first time. Love at first sight, her friends had said. And they were right. She hadn’t been able to focus, had lost her appetite and become insomniac. Her entire being had been consumed with him, and even now, after all their messy history, she still felt that invisible pull.

  How silly. You’d think I would know better by now. She wasn’t a young, inexperienced girl anymore.

  “What are you thinking about?” he said.

  She looked away. “This and that.”

  He didn’t press, but when she stole a glance, she saw his brows were pulled together, creating a deep furrow between them. Eventually the road changed to an unpaved lane that ended in a gravel-covered parking lot. Rows of bushes and some plants Ceinlys couldn’t quite make out covered a vast field. A few hothouses sat to the left.

  Salazar parked the car and opened the door for her. As she stepped out, a man came over. He wore a dark t-shirt that said I Heart Roses over ripped jeans with mud-stains. His skin was the richest ebony she’d ever seen, so smooth and fine that he looked like he’d been carved out of the wood. The only thing that betrayed his age was the hint of gray in his tightly cropped hair.

  “Salazar!” the man said in a rumbling voice. “Good of you to come by. Is this your wife?”

  “Danny, meet Ceinlys. Ceinlys, Danny.”

  She extended her hand. “A pleasure.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He engulfed her small, pale hand in in a mitt that reminded her of a lobster claw. But the grip was gentle. “You’re just in time. I have twenty Osirias you can take with you. And the project is done. It’s the best rose I’ve ever seen, if I do say so myself, and I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

  “Ah, I just threw in some money. The genius and hard work was all you,” Salazar said with an easy grin. Though it was directed at Danny, the sight left Ceinlys breathless for a moment. She hadn’t seen that expression on his face in ages. And it hurt to realize he’d stopped smiling like that since her fateful conversation with Olivia.

  “That’s the truth. But genius and hard work don’t always put food on the table.” Danny gestured. “Come on. Lemme show you.”

  He took them to one of the hothouses. Inside were a few young bushes, and two of them sported unusual hybrid roses, each blossom in deep purple, red and white. She buried her nose in one, deeply inhaling the headiest fragrance she’d ever smelled. “That’s amazing,” she murmured.

  “Think so?” He grinned. “That’s my baby, an entirely new breed of rose. Haven’t named it yet because I wanted to make sure it was viable first.”

  “What are you going to call it?” Salazar asked.

  “Thought I’d let you do the honors.”

  Salazar shook his head. “It’s your work.”

  “Wouldn’t’ve been any work if you hadn’t helped out. My kids are going to college now because of you. I owe you, and I’m afraid I may never be able to pay you back.”

  Salazar stared at the bush for a few moments, then took out his phone and snapped a picture of the bloom Ceinlys was still sniffing. “Let me think about it and get back to you. It seems too…monumental to decide right now.”

  “No rush,” Danny said. “I’m not letting these babies die out.”

  “All right. In the meantime, send all the Osiria you have to the grove. You’ve got the address, right?”

  Danny nodded.

  “And you can send some of the new roses to the house.”

  “Will do.” Danny scribbled some notes on thin triplicate paper, then brought it over. “Put your John Hancock here.”

  Salazar scrawled his name. Then he said to Ceinlys off-handedly, “If you want the new roses and some Osiria in Provence, I can probably have them shipped there, too.”

  And at that, her heart broke all over again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The restaurant Salazar had chosen was out of the way, but pretty. Owned by an immigrant couple, the place served some of the best seafood he’d ever had. It didn’t have the rich décor of Mark’s establishments, but Salazar found that the outdoor seating and view of an immaculate garden—which was full of flowers he didn’t recognize—had a calming effect.

  “Very nice,” Ceinlys said, her voice oddly subdued.

  “Glad you like it.” When he’d first discovered the place four years ago, his first thought was that she would enjoy the view and food.

  It hadn’t been the first time he’d thought that, of course. Every time he saw or noticed something, he judged it by whether or not Ceinlys would like it—his perpetual mental ruler. Of course, deciding that she wouldn’t like something had never deterred him. In fact, he’d spent quite a lot of his life trying to get a rise out of her, only to finally give up when he’d realized she didn’t care.

  She ordered the special, while he had the Dungeness crab cake. “You know what Mark said about specials,” Salazar said. Their son had informed them specials tend to be stuff that wasn’t the freshest, although still good enough to eat.

  “He’s not here to lecture me, is he?”

  His mouth quirked. “No.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine.” They shared a bottle of chilled blended white while waiting for their food. “When did you ask Danny to make the new breed of roses?”

  “I didn’t. He did on his own. I merel
y lent him some money a while back when he told me about his plans.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” He shrugged. “His cash dried up—some bad management on his part, but also some bad luck. I liked what he was doing, and I have plenty of money, so…why not?”

  “Shirley wouldn’t have liked that.”

  He laughed. “She’s not around to lecture me, is she? And I never lived my life based on what she liked.”

  “Never?” She tilted her head. “That’s not what I heard.”

  He took a sip of wine. “Says who?”

  “Shirley. To be precise, she said you stopped listening to her after you met me.”

  “Ah. That old refrain.”

  “Yes.”

  He knew it well. His mother had been furious that he’d married so badly, then lamented that he was going his own way, especially because he wouldn’t divorce Ceinlys. “She never had any idea what I wanted. To her it was always what was ‘proper for the family’.”

  Their food arrived, and the waitress, after making sure everything was all right, left them alone to chat.

  “She never liked me,” Ceinlys mused. “I lived more than half my life to please her, and I can’t think of a single moment when she looked at me with anything close to approval.”

  “She wasn’t a happy woman.” Salazar sampled his crab cake. Excellent as usual. “She never loved Dad.”

  “Then why did they marry?”

  “It made sense. She was from a poor but impeccable family, knew what was expected of her, and dad had money…and was from an excellent family and needed a well-bred wife who knew how to host parties and smile and nod at the right time. My grandmother approved because she liked Mom’s family. They were superb suck-ups.” At Ceinlys’s dubious expression, he added, “If Mom hadn’t married Dad, her family would’ve been utterly destitute.” He washed down his bite of food with the wine. “Back then, that was all women were worth—who they could marry.”

  “And I brought nothing—no money, no family name.”

  “Even if you had, she wouldn’t have liked you. She rarely liked anyone, especially women. Geraldine was maybe the only exception.”

  “Why not?”

  “Who knows? Maybe she saw everyone as a rival. After all, until I met you, I basically let her dictate a lot of things in my life.” It hadn’t been worth the energy to fight his mother, and he hadn’t cared one way or the other.

  “I see.” Ceinlys nibbled on her baked halibut. “By the way, once the roses are planted, the work on the grove will be finished.”

  The announcement hit him like an anvil. He hadn’t realized she’d progressed so fast. Although they’d been having lunch together to discuss what was happening at the grove, he hadn’t paid too much attention. He was honest enough to admit that he’d just wanted to spend time with her. “Already? Aren’t you busy helping Jane plan her wedding, too?”

  “It isn’t that difficult. Jane’s done a lot already on her own. I’m just giving her some advice, nothing more than what was expected of me.”

  “You always do what’s expected of you.”

  “For the family? Yes.”

  “Then why did you back off after Mark?” Everyone knew how much she’d wanted Mark to marry a suitable heiress rather than some secretary.

  Regret fleeted through Ceinlys’s eyes, and she finished the bite. “I decided to have faith in my children. Even though I worry that…” Breath hitched. “Love won’t be enough.” Her gaze slid away, toward the vivid red flowers in the garden. “We’re proof of that.”

  The old wound split again, bleeding fresh. Suddenly the succulent crab cake lost all its flavor. “Are we that pathetic?”

  She shook her head. “Not pathetic. Maybe insecure…at least I was. I lived most of our marriage in fear that one day you’d wake up and realize you’d made a terrible mistake when you asked me to marry you. Even after I gave you children, I was fearful.”

  He studied her, suddenly intent. “Why did you think I married you?”

  “A moment of passion. Maybe even madness? To assert your manhood? To declare your independence…?” She bit her lower lip, then shrugged helplessly.

  He couldn’t breathe. Those were the things Shirley had thrown in his face. Had she poisoned Ceinlys, stoked her self-doubt until she couldn’t handle anything in their marriage? “Was it insecurity that made you ignore me when I came to you that night, smelling of another woman?”

  She sighed. “No. Jealousy is unbecoming.” From the way she recited the words, he knew she was merely repeating one of Shirley’s dictums. “Your mother warned me you would stray, especially if you were too proud to admit that you’d made a mistake and divorce me, and I was so desperate. I thought I could keep you if we had children together.”

  “But it’s you who ended up divorcing me,” he rasped.

  “When I saw how our marriage affected Iain… I realized I had hurt our children with my insecurity. And I was hurting us.”

  Regret made him close his eyes. They’d fucked up everything with their assumptions, fear and pride. He couldn’t even blame his mother since, if he’d been smarter, he would’ve recognized what was going on. “Jesus.”

  “You know I’m right about this. Isn’t that why you agreed to the divorce at the end?”

  “No.” He raised his head. “I let you go because I happened to run into Stella Lloyd.”

  “Stella?” Ceinlys frowned. “What does she have to do with it?”

  “She was in L.A., visiting Gavin. When I saw her, I realized something.” He reached out and caressed the smooth corner of her eye with a finger. “She had laugh lines…here.” Then he ran it along the other one. “And here.” He dropped his hand. “You don’t.”

  Her lips trembled, then parted.

  “I clung to you, telling myself you were happy to be spending my money. Then I saw Stella and realized I was full of shit. But still…I couldn’t give you up.” At her stricken expression, he said, “Don’t look at me like that. I was furious with myself for noticing and caring because even then I didn’t want to let you go. I’ve never wanted to cling to anyone until you.” He rubbed his face. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at the hospital.”

  “Salazar…”

  “I mean it, Ceinlys. You’re a wealthy woman now in your own right. You can do whatever you want, and you should.” He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “Make yourself happy.” He rested his fork on the table and sat back. “Next time we run into each other, I want to see laugh lines on your face.”

  * * *

  Salazar didn’t send a car the next day. Or the day after.

  Even as Ceinlys told herself it didn’t matter—of course he wouldn’t want to send the car after their history had been laid bare and their pain had only intensified—she was disappointed…even hurt. She’d come to look forward to their lunches over the past three weeks. They’d talked—openly, and without acrimony—and it was as though they’d gone back to the time before they were married, when they were happy together.

  And somehow their lunches had changed her. Made her realize that their marriage hadn’t fallen apart just because of Salazar’s cheating, but other factors as well. They’d never had a chance when both of them had clung so hard to their own ego, refusing to bend even a little during their more than three decades together.

  I’m such a hypocrite…

  She’d told Dane he needed to bend, make himself vulnerable to win Sophia, preached to him about how she and Salazar had failed because they couldn’t open up to each other, but she’d underestimated the depth of their failing. She’d been worse—channeling Shirley all the time. Ceinlys cringed, thinking back to her treatment of Hilary, and the few moments with Jane when she’d wanted so desperately to say something to the girl—so she would be more worthy of Iain—when she already was. Iain would never have fallen for her if she hadn’t been.

  Since there weren’t going to be any more lunches with Salazar and her contractors had notif
ied her they were replanting the roses, Ceinlys focused on rechecking everything for Jane and Iain’s wedding, which was now less than a month away. The holiday season was always hectic, and getting married during this time wasn’t easy, especially with the budget constraints, but things were coming together nicely.

  Her children hadn’t lost out on their loves… She was certain they would lead lives more fulfilling and happier than hers. After all, they were far wiser than she could have ever been at their age.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jane came by for the last time to check on things with Ceinlys. Her family had already descended upon L.A. from Paris, West Virginia, and she’d stashed them at a hotel not too far from the penthouse, as they’d discussed. Iain was paying for it since he’d been adamant about not sharing their place with his in-laws.

  “How am I supposed to seduce you with your father and brothers underfoot?” he’d whispered hotly against her damp neck in the shower. “You aren’t exactly quiet.”

  When he palmed her breast with one hand, the other traveling south for a finger to gently rub against her swollen clitoris, she’d given a lusty moan. “You can blame yourself for that.”

  “Jane, baby, I take credit for it.”

  Then they’d made love until she couldn’t remember why she’d ever wanted to have her family at the penthouse in the first place.

  “Rehearsal dinner is today,” Ceinlys said. “I presume everything’s ready?”

  Jane ticked off points on her fingers. “My folks know when and where to go. I left instructions with the hotel to give them a reminder call ten minutes beforehand, just in case. And cars are coming to pick them up. The drivers have all received directions to the restaurant.”

  “Excellent. I would hate to have them get lost. Traffic this time of year is horrendous.”

  “Tell me about it.” Jane pressed her lips together as she studied her future mother-in-law. Ceinlys could do makeup like a pro, but she hadn’t been able to hide the dark circles under her eyes. It was barely ten thirty in the morning, but there was a weariness in her gaze, in the way her shoulders drooped and rounded when she thought nobody was watching. Jane had noticed Ceinlys correcting her posture every time she’d felt Jane’s gaze on her.