12 Gifts for Christmas

by Various

  “Wait,” Mari blurted into the mic. Her voice shook. She cleared her throat, then said, in a stronger voice, “Excuse me, everyone. Please, do you have a second?”

  The noise softened to a dull whisper as everyone focused on her. Mari thought she might pass out.

  “I want to clear up a rumor.” The room went silent. Mari’s head spun. “Back in high school, there was some gossip about Declan Cole and me. That we …”

  “Bumped uglies?” someone shouted.

  Mari blushed then shrugged. “Whatever. But it wasn’t true.”

  There were a few knowing glances. And more than a few smirks. Declan looked grim.

  “It wasn’t true then.” Cue the rolled eyes. “It is now. I’m seeing Declan. And I’m going to keep on seeing him, no matter what people think.”

  Murmurs washed over her. Some of amusement, a couple of disdain. But most were simply curious. Declan’s eyes warmed her from the back of the room.

  “I’m sure a few of you remember Declan Cole as trouble. But a lot of you have worked with him this week. You’ve gotten to know him. He’s been a big help to everyone. But now he’s thinking about leaving,” she said into the mic, her voice blanketing the room. “Not the hall, but the town. For good.”

  And her. Mari swallowed hard. This time it was misery that was clogging her throat, not nerves.

  There was a heartbeat of silence, then the protests rang out.

  Declan’s eyes widened in shock as people swarmed around him. Mari stepped off the stage, slowly making her way through the crowd to Declan and the people giving him reasons to stay in town. Everything from renovation requests to poker games to an offer of a kitten. When she reached his side, the invitations had widened to include them both.

  “Excuse me,” he said, wrapping his hand around Mari’s. He hesitated then promised to the crowd, “I’ll be back.”

  “Want to explain that performance?” Declan asked once he and Mari had reached the questionable privacy of his truck. She hated being the subject of gossip. He couldn’t believe she’d stepped up and told the town they were a couple.

  “You won the bet,” she said.

  “It was a tie.” He arched a brow. “And I don’t remember you agreeing to those stakes.”

  “I don’t want you to leave,” she said simply. Her blue eyes shone with a warmth that filled him with joy.

  “You’re sure?” he asked, finally letting his heart accept that he deserved Mari. Deserved her sweetness, her sassiness and her determination to make him climb out of his bitter shell and be happy. “Because if I stick around, I plan to do it right next to you.”

  “Yes. I’m positive,” she said, brushing a candy-cane-sweet kiss over his lips before giving him a wicked smile. “After all, the way you do naughty is pretty darned nice.”

  The Bodyguard’s Bride

  Brenda Harlen

  About the Author

  BRENDA HARLEN grew up in a small town surrounded by books and imaginary friends. Although she always dreamed of being a writer, she chose to follow a more traditional career path first. After two years of practising as an attorney (including an appearance in front of the Supreme Court of Canada), she gave up her “real” job to be a mom and to try her hand at writing books. Three years, five manuscripts and another baby later, she sold her first book—an RWA Golden Heart Winner.

  Brenda lives in southern Ontario with her reallife husband/hero, two heroes-in-training and two neurotic dogs. She is still surrounded by books (“too many books,” according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with “real” people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at brendaharlen@yahoo.com.

  Look for new novels from Brenda in Mills & Boon® Cherish™.

  CHAPTER ONE

  TRAVIS Stanford stared at the elegantly scripted letters that spelled out Celebrations by Brooke on the sign in front of the gorgeous brick colonial-style home and barely managed to stifle the curse that rose to his lips. He double-checked the house number, hoping that someone had made a mistake. But no, Lacey’s appointment book clearly noted this address.

  In blatant disregard of their security protocol, his client bounded out of the passenger seat of his car before he could go around to open the door for her. She was obviously excited to be here, to meet with the wedding planner and go over details of the New Year’s Eve ceremony she wanted. He followed her up the porch steps, wishing he could be anywhere but here. One of the reasons he’d come back to Red Rock was to see Brooke again, but he hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

  As he paused with his hand on the knob, his expression must have revealed his conflicted feelings because Lacey asked, “Travis—is something wrong?”

  No, something wasn’t wrong—everything was wrong, and he didn’t have the first clue about how to fix it. But he could hardly explain that to Lacey. Not here. Not now.

  So he lied. “Of course not,” he said, and opened the door for her. “Let’s go make wedding plans.”

  “Miss Carrington’s here.”

  Brooke McFarlane nodded in response to her assistant’s announcement.

  She was trying to play it cool, as if the consultation with this bride-to-be wasn’t different from any other, but she and Heather both knew differently. Michael Carrington was a local billionaire who had made his fortune in the telecommunications industry and Lacey was his only child.

  After a recent vacation in the Caribbean, the beautiful heiress had returned home with a spectacular ring on the third finger of her left hand. While the identity of Lacey’s fiancé remained a mystery, her father had publicly confirmed the engagement. If Celebrations was chosen to plan the event that would undoubtedly be one of the most high-profile affairs of the year, it would be a huge coup for the young company.

  Brooke took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her tummy, as if to still the butterflies that were fluttering around inside. After almost two years of hard work and meticulous planning, she’d finally started to build a reputation for Celebrations. Recently, she’d been booked to arrange William and Lily Fortune’s New Year’s Day nuptials and now—fingers crossed—the Carrington wedding. It was as if the wedding-planner gods were smiling down on her, and she couldn’t help but grin back at them.

  She glanced up at her assistant, surprised that Heather didn’t look similarly elated. In fact, the furrow in her brow and the clouds in her moss-green eyes suggested that she was seriously worried about something.

  “Did the coffeemaker break? Are we out of pastries?”

  They’d set up the business so that meetings with clients were held in the sunny front parlor. In the warmer months, they offered cold drinks, freshly baked cookies and seasonal fruit. Today, the first of December, there was a fire burning and a table set with hot beverages and petits fours. And whatever the season, there were always albums on the coffee table for potential clients to leaf through, filled with photos showcasing other Celebrations by Brooke.

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” Heather assured her.

  But unease began to gnaw at Brooke. Heather had been with her from the first day she’d opened the doors of her business and they knew each other too well to hold anything back. The fact that she was hesitating now worried Brooke. “Then what is it?”

  “Miss Carrington …” Heather faltered, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “She’s not alone.”

  “I didn’t expect she would be,” Brooke replied evenly. “Most brides-to-be come with their mothers or their fiancés or both.”

  “She’s with a man.”

  “Then I’d guess he’s her fiancé,” Brooke said lightly.

  Heather swallowed. “It’s Travis.”

  “Travis Stanford?” She picked up her mug of coffee and took a long swallow to moisten her suddenly dry throat. She only knew one Travis, and she’d only ever loved one man. It was her bad luck that they were one and the same.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Heather said, her eyes filled with sympath
y and understanding. “I don’t care how big the headlines surrounding this wedding will be. All the publicity in the world isn’t enough if you’re not ready—”

  “It’s been two years,” Brooke said, to remind herself as much as Heather of the fact. “I’m ready.”

  It was a lie, of course. A blatant, bold-faced lie. And, not surprisingly, her friend remained unconvinced. “Ready to see him, maybe,” she acknowledged. “But to plan his wedding—”

  “It’s what I do,” she interrupted again.

  She managed a smile in an attempt to reassure Heather and went to meet her new clients.

  But deep down, she felt anything but confident.

  Travis had thought he was prepared to see her—and then she walked through the door.

  She looked exactly the same, as perfect as he remembered.

  Her hair was the same honey-blond color, still cut in a sleek style that brushed her shoulders. Her eyes were the exact summer-sky-blue that had always mesmerized him, her lips were the tempting Cupid’s-bow shape that had inspired his fantasies, and her curves—

  He forced his gaze back to her face, deciding it was safer not to focus his attention in that direction. After all, it was the undeniable physical attraction between them that had gotten them into trouble in the first place.

  When their eyes met, he realized that he’d been wrong. On first glance, she looked the same, but there were subtle differences. Where there had always been warmth in those stunning blue eyes before, there was nothing but ice now. In fact, the look she leveled at him was so cold he nearly shivered before she shifted her attention to Lacey.

  “Miss Carrington—it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Lacey smiled warmly as she took the hand Brooke proffered. “I’m so thrilled that you’re going to plan the wedding.”

  “I really hope I can,” Brooke said. “But we’re quite booked through the next year, so it’s going to depend on when you wanted—”

  “New Year’s Eve,” Lacey gushed. “We want to start the New Year as husband and wife.”

  “That’s … romantic,” Brooke said.

  “I told her it was corny and clichéd,” Travis admitted.

  Lacey swatted his arm playfully. “My mother couldn’t be here today because she had a meeting with the hospital committee,” she explained. “But this is—”

  “Travis Stanford,” Brooke intoned.

  Lacey’s gaze shifted from Brooke to Travis and back again. “You two know each other?”

  “We used to,” Brooke said, still focused on Lacey, as if he didn’t even exist. “A long time ago.”

  “It wasn’t so very long ago,” he pointed out. “And you’re glossing over a very important detail.”

  “What detail is that?” Lacey asked curiously.

  Travis’s eyes locked on Brooke’s stunning blue ones, noted that they weren’t so cool anymore. He let his lips curve, just a little. “That Brooke is my wife.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Ex-WIFE,” Brooke clarified, and managed to smile through gritted teeth.

  She didn’t know why he felt compelled to bring up their history now, unless it was his intention to ruin this opportunity for her. Not that it seemed like such a great opportunity anymore. While the idea of planning Lacey Carrington’s wedding had originally seemed like a dream come true, discovering the identity of her groom had quickly transformed that fantasy into a nightmare.

  The bride-to-be’s perfectly arched brows flew upward as she turned to the man at her side. “I didn’t realize you’d been married.”

  “I didn’t think it was relevant,” Travis said.

  Not relevant? Brooke kept the smile pasted on her face while her heart absorbed the hit of having their relationship disregarded so casually. Their marriage might have been brief, and they both knew it had been a mistake, but it had definitely been relevant. At least to her.

  Of course, she should have expected that kind of cavalier attitude from Travis. Any man who would bring his current fiancée to his former spouse to plan his wedding obviously had no concept of common decency.

  Lacey lifted a hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The action drew Brooke’s attention to the stunning—and enormous—diamond on the other woman’s third finger.

  She’d never had an engagement ring. When she’d married Travis, they’d exchanged simple gold bands along with their vows. The rings had symbolized their legal union; a diamond like the one that flashed on Lacey’s finger symbolized so much more.

  “It’s relevant if having you here makes Brooke uncomfortable,” Lacey said.

  “It doesn’t,” Brooke lied, deliberately ignoring the ache inside her chest. “But under the circumstances, I would understand if you wanted someone else to plan your wedding.”

  The other woman shook her head vehemently. “Your brother would be appalled if I even considered letting anyone else make the arrangements.”

  “I think I may have missed something here,” Brooke admitted. “What does Kevin have to do with any of this?”

  Lacey frowned. “He didn’t call you?”

  “There was a message on my voice mail when I got home last night, but it was too late to call him back,” she said. “We’ve exchanged a few emails, but I haven’t actually spoken to my brother since he went to the Caribbean… .”

  Brooke’s explanation trailed off as the scattered pieces finally clicked into place. “Oh, my god … you’re marrying my brother?”

  “That’s the plan,” the bride-to-be admitted with a wide smile.

  Kevin. Not Travis, but Kevin, she thought with a dizzying sense of relief as the vise that had tightened around her heart began to ease.

  “I never thought—I mean, Kevin always said—”

  “That he was never going to get married?” Lacey guessed.

  “I’m going to shut up now,” Brooke decided.

  Lacey laughed. “It’s okay,” she assured her. “Neither of us expected—or even wanted—to fall in love. But when we met, it was like a bolt of lightning.”

  “He’s not usually impulsive,” Brooke said.

  “Neither am I,” Lacey told her. “But when you meet the right person—” her smile was absolutely radiant “—you just know it’s right.”

  There had been a time when Brooke would have agreed wholeheartedly with the other woman’s statement. A time when she’d been certain that the depth of her love for Travis was enough to build a future on. Then her heart had been shattered into a billion little pieces.

  She pushed the painful memories aside to focus on the present, confident that Lacey and Kevin’s story would have a much happier ending.

  “New Year’s Eve doesn’t give us a lot of time,” Brooke cautioned, reaching for her clipboard.

  “I don’t care about all the frills,” Lacey said, taking a seat across from her. “I just want to marry the man I love.”

  Travis—the man Brooke had once loved—settled into an oversize chair close by and randomly selected an album from the table. But she kept her focus on the bubbling bride-to-be as he began thumbing through the pages.

  “I just have one more question before we get started,” she said.

  Lacey crossed her feet at the ankles. “What’s that?”

  “Why is Travis here?”

  “He’s my new bodyguard.”

  Travis looked over at Brooke, curious about her reaction to Lacey’s announcement. The furrow in her brow confirmed that his wife had been unaware of his career change, and the quick glance she sent in his direction—which he averted—revealed that she was curious. But she wouldn’t ask. Of course not. Since he’d walked through the door, she’d done her damnedest to ignore him. As she’d been doing for the better part of two years now.

  Not that he could blame her. Travis had screwed up—there was no reason to sugarcoat that truth. He’d slept with Brooke, gotten her pregnant and promptly whisked her off to Las Vegas and married her.

  Less than twelve hours
later, he’d abandoned his bride to return to his assignment chaperoning a foreign diplomat on a visit to UN Headquarters in New York City. As a result, he’d been out of touch when Brooke was taken to the hospital, incommunicado when she’d lost their baby, and when he’d finally made his way back to Red Rock, her brother—his former best friend—had made it clear that she didn’t want to see him.

  He’d been furious with Kevin, and maybe just a little relieved. He’d done the right thing when he learned of Brooke’s pregnancy, but it hadn’t been what he wanted. Not at the time, anyway. So when Kevin had told him to leave his sister the hell alone, Travis had complied. And he’d assuaged his guilt by reminding himself that it was what she wanted.

  He’d moved on to California and the next assignment, tried to immerse himself in his work, but he’d missed her. And he’d decided that their reasons for getting married didn’t matter as much as the fact that they were married—and that he wasn’t ready to let her go.

  Then he got the letter from her lawyer.

  Almost two years had passed since then, but he hadn’t forgotten about her. And whether she’d thought about him or not, she’d obviously been keeping busy. He dropped his gaze back to the album that was open in his lap, and he couldn’t help but be impressed by the photos he perused.

  There were weddings, anniversaries, bridal and baby showers, baptisms and birthday parties. And the photos of each event showed both creativity and attention to detail.

  He’d never really understood her ambition. Maybe he’d never tried. Celebrations hadn’t been much more than an idea when they were together, and he wished now that he’d paid more attention when she’d talked to him about what she wanted to do. He wished that he could tell her that he was proud of her, but mostly, he wished he could believe his opinion mattered to her.

  He wished he could believe that it wasn’t too late for a second chance.

  CHAPTER THREE