Snowbound with an Heiress

by Jennifer Faye

  And Serena was anything but perfect. Hence, the misguided note in her hand. She clenched her fingers, crunching up the paper.

  “Please don’t take this personally.” Jackson’s voice was low. He took a step toward her. “Your note, it was the sweetest, most generous gesture that anyone has ever done for me. Someday you’ll find the right man to share that note with. I’m sorry it wasn’t me.”

  Her heart clenched in her chest as she shook her head. “Don’t say any more. You’re making it worse. Just go.”

  “You want me to leave now?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her emotions in check. She’d made such a mess of everything.

  “Serena, we don’t have to end things like this.”

  “I don’t want to work this out. It’s not like we’re in love. We need to go our separate ways. Now.” And then, because she didn’t trust herself to keep her rising emotions in check, she said, “I’ll be in the kitchen until you’re gone.”

  Gizmo, as though sensing her distress, had moved to sit at her feet. She bent over and scooped him into her arms. With her head held high, she walked away. After all, she was a Winston—Winstons knew how to maintain their composure—even when their dignity and their hearts had been shredded.

  Once in the kitchen with the door shut, she set Gizmo down on the floor. There were no happy barks and no tail wagging. He moved over to the table where Jackson’s chair was still pulled out. He settled on the chair and stared at her with those sad puppy eyes.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered, feeling guilty for the mess she’d made of all their lives. “Jackson was never going to stay anyway.”

  Gizmo whined and covered his head with his paw.

  Great. Now even the dog was upset with her. You’d think Gizmo belonged to Jackson instead of her. It looked like she wasn’t the only one to let down her defenses and fall for the sexy New Yorker.

  Serena moved to the window and stared out at the sunny day. The cheeriness of the weather mocked her black mood. She clung to her dark and stormy emotions. It was so much easier to be angry with Jackson than to deal with her broken heart.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed when she finally plunked down in a chair opposite Gizmo. By then, the pup had dozed off. She was thankful. She didn’t think she could take any more of his sad face.

  Her phone buzzed. Certain that it was just a friend wishing her a merry Christmas, she leaned over and retrieved it from the kitchen counter. The screen showed that she had four new emails.

  Two from friends, one from her agent and one from Jackson—that was strange. What would he send her?

  She checked the time stamp, finding the email from Jackson had been sent some time ago—before she’d made an utter fool of herself. What could it be?

  And then she recalled him mentioning something about a Christmas gift. Could this have something to do with it?

  She hesitated before opening her email. Maybe it would be best to get it over with now. But when she went to click on the email from him, the screen jumped as more graphics loaded. Instead of Jackson’s email, the email from her agent opened. Before she could close it, her gaze skimmed over Jackson’s name. How would her agent know anything about Jackson being here with her?

  The more she read, the worse she felt. Her stomach churned when she got to the end of the email. Jackson had broken his word and had used her interview to further his career. Here she was throwing herself at a man who felt nothing for her and, worse, had lied to her. Once again, her poor judgment had led her into trouble.

  She rushed out of the kitchen to confront Jackson, but he was nowhere to be found. When she moved to the window, she saw his rental car pulling out of the driveway.

  She told herself it was for the best. There was no way he could undo the fiasco with the video. Right now, it was out there for all the world to see. But even worse than that was the fact that she was in love with a man who didn’t love her back.

  So much for a merry Christmas...

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE OUTLINE OF the cabin filled his rearview mirror.

  Jackson turned onto the mountain road and headed for the nearby village, hoping that there would be a vacancy. It was Christmas Eve. The village might be full of people visiting for the holidays. If so, he’d keep driving. There was nothing keeping him here.

  He told himself he would be fine, even though he felt anything but fine. After all, he hadn’t come to Austria to start a relationship. How dare she accuse him of leading her on? He hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He had made his situation clear to her. Hadn’t he? Suddenly he wasn’t so sure those words had made it from his thoughts to his lips. When he held Serena in his arms, it was so easy to forget about everything but kissing her.

  Just then his phone rang. It was his agent. He didn’t really want to talk to him, but it would be best to tell him that the deal with the interview was off. He put the man on speakerphone.

  “Hey, Fred, I was about to call you.”

  “She loved the video, didn’t she?” Before Jackson could respond, Fred said, “I knew she would. That’s why I took the liberty of releasing it before people got too distracted with Christmas.”

  “You did what?” Surely Jackson hadn’t heard him correctly. He wouldn’t go public with the video after Jackson told him how important Serena’s privacy was to her.

  “Don’t worry. It’s trending. It’s going to hit a million views anytime now—”

  “Fred, I told you not to do this!” He was shouting now and he didn’t care.

  “Relax. I’ve got your back.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I told you how important this video was to me.”

  “Of course it’s important. That’s why I had the best people in the business polish it up before I released it. And let me tell you, after it aired on your network, the video went viral. People are talking about it on every media platform. You’re a hero. You found Serena Winston.”

  “And what about her? Do you know what you’ve done to her?”

  His agent’s voice took on an angry tone. “I didn’t do anything to her. She should thank me for her name being on everyone’s tongue.”

  “And did you ever stop to think that if she worked that hard to disappear she might value her privacy?” Serena was going to be so hurt and he’d already done so much damage. He had to do something to fix this.

  “Give me some credit. I didn’t tell anyone where she is.” Fred’s voice drew him from his thoughts. “What is up with you? I thought you wanted to do whatever it took to land that evening anchor position? Where is the thank-you?”

  “There isn’t going to be one. I told you the interview was to be kept under wraps—”

  “Wait. You’re upset about her, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You are. You don’t care about the tape being leaked—you care that Serena Winston is upset. What has gotten into you? Where are your priorities?”

  “You want to know my priorities? My priority is keeping my word—without it I’m nothing. And I gave Serena my word that I would keep that interview confidential until she decided if or when to go public with her screenplay. And now, thanks to you, everyone and their grandmother knows about Serena’s project—a project that she wasn’t ready to take public.”

  “But this will help both of you—believe me, this is all going to work out. And I didn’t tell you the best part. The network executives tuned in. They loved the interview and they want you.” When Jackson didn’t respond, Fred asked, “Did you hear me?”

  “I did. And I don’t care. This isn’t about me. It’s about Serena.”

  “And she’s going to thank you—”

  “No. She isn’t.” Jackson’s hands clenched the steering wheel until his knuckle
s turned white.

  “Wow! I’ve never heard you go off the handle like this.”

  “If you thought I’d be happy using someone I care about to further my career, you don’t know me at all.”

  “I thought I did. You used to always be so calm and take everything in stride. What has happened to you? It’s Serena. She’s gotten to you.”

  “No, she hasn’t.” Besides, he’d messed things up with her. If he’d had any hope of ever making things right with Serena—this was the final straw.

  “Oh, I get it. You’re in love with her, aren’t you? That’s why you’re so upset.”

  He may not be able to do anything about Serena’s anger toward him, but he could make sure his agent never leaked a video again.

  “Fred, you’re fired.”

  Jackson disconnected the call. He pulled off the quiet mountain road. He got out of his vehicle and just started pacing. He had so much pent-up energy and he just needed to wear it off.

  Because there was no way Fred was right. He was not in love with Serena. Sure, he thought she was great. And she had opened his eyes to a life without June, but did that constitute love?

  * * *

  Erase. Erase. Erase.

  Serena sat at her desk trying to work on her rom-com screenplay but nothing she wrote was the least bit entertaining. Her heroines were snappy and her heroes were being mulish. It was a disaster.

  Her muse was on strike.

  And worse yet, her heart was broken. Splintered into a million painful shards.

  What had she been doing letting herself get so close to a man who was obviously still in love with his late wife? She should have gotten the hint by the amount of times he’d mentioned June—the love of his life.

  And then there was the leaked video. Now that she’d calmed down, she realized it wasn’t the disaster she’d originally imagined. Her agent had sent a follow-up email letting her know that there had been numerous read requests for her script.

  Jackson may not love her—it had been written all over his face when he’d read the note she’d given him for Christmas. And then he’d tried to gently wiggle out of the idea of them continuing their relationship when they returned to the States.

  Even so. He never struck her as a liar or a man who went back on his word. She’d been in the industry long enough to know there were a hundred and one different opportunities to leak a video to the public—

  Serena drew her thoughts up short. What was wrong with her? Why was she making excuses for him?

  Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, she couldn’t hate a man for loving his late wife. It wasn’t his fault that someone had laid claim to his heart before Serena had met him.

  And perhaps she’d read more into things than she should have. There appeared to be plenty of blame to go around. She thought of talking to him—of setting things straight—but she didn’t have his phone number. And at this point, she was probably the last person that he’d want to speak to.

  Maybe a year or two from now, when this evening was a distant memory, she’d bump into him during one of her business trips to New York. It would be awkward at first, but perhaps they could get coffee. Maybe they could find their way back to being friends.

  A tear splashed onto her cheek. Gizmo rushed over and settled on her lap. Her hand automatically stroked his back, but all she could think about was Jackson and how friendship with him would never be enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  HE LOVED HER.

  He loved her laugh, her smile, and her so-so cooking.

  He loved everything about her.

  Jackson had thought about nothing else since Serena had tossed him out of her life. And though he hated to admit it, his agent was right. His reaction where she was concerned was way over the top. If that interview had been with anyone else, he would have dealt with it in a more businesslike, more restrained manner. But this interviewee was so much more than a pretty face—she was a breath of fresh air in his otherwise stale life.

  And because he’d been too busy trying to impress her, he hadn’t slowed down long enough to think about how letting her interview out of his possession could end up being a mess. Jackson paced back and forth in his rented room in the village. He raked his fingers through his hair.

  He’d made a gigantic mess of everything. But he refused to give up hope on rectifying his relationship with Serena. After all, wasn’t Christmas the season of hope and forgiveness?

  He loved Serena Mae Winston.

  Not the Hollywood star.

  Not the up-and-coming screenplay writer.

  But he loved the woman who struggled to cook pasta, who was brave enough to climb in a wrecked car to save a total stranger and who didn’t take any gruff from a less than stellar patient.

  He grabbed his phone but then realized that he didn’t have her phone number. He swore under his breath. What had he been thinking? He should have gotten it a long time ago. Wasn’t that one of the first things guys asked for when they were trying to pick up women? It just went to show how long he’d been out of the dating world.

  Left with few options, he started typing her a brief email. He had no idea if she would even open it, but he had to try. His thumbs started moving rapidly over the screen of his phone.

  Mae. Yes, that’s the name of the woman who first caught my attention. It’s the name of the person I’ve come to admire and care a lot about—more than I realized until now.

  I guess it’s true what they say about not realizing what you’ve got until it’s gone. I made a HUGE mistake and for that I apologize. I wish I could undo so many things, but I can’t.

  I promise you that I will not take advantage of any opportunities that come my way because of the leaked video. All I want is a chance to show you how sorry I am for not realizing what a precious Christmas present you had given me.

  I love—

  Erase. Erase.

  He didn’t want to say too much without seeing her—without being able to gaze into her eyes. He wanted her to see how much she meant to him.

  He concluded the email with a simple: Jackson.

  His finger hovered over the send button. He reread each word, evaluating its meaning and wondering if he could do anything to make the email more powerful. He knew he was overthinking everything. But this message was all he had at this point.

  He knew that she would see the subject line before she pressed Delete. And he only had two words for it.

  I’m sorry.

  His gut was telling him that this wasn’t the right way to do things. He could do better. The cursor moved back and forth between Send and Delete.

  He pressed Delete.

  He needed to woo her over and an email wouldn’t do it. This was going to take him pulling out all of the stops. He had to show Serena how much she meant to him.

  It was still early—before noon. Perhaps there would still be some shops open. With a plan in mind, he rushed out of his rented room, down the steps and out the door. The sidewalks were busy with people bustling around with last-minute shopping before the big day.

  A group of young people stopped on the sidewalk to sing to a growing audience. Jackson got caught up in the lurkers. He paused to listen to their harmonious and joyful voices. It wouldn’t have been so long ago when he would have walked right past such an exhibition, unmoved and uncaring. But he was beginning to see all the wonderful things around him when he slowed down and paid attention.

  After their first song, Jackson continued down the sidewalk. Thanks to his visit here with Serena, he remembered a few of the stores in the town square. He just hoped they were still open.

  His first stop was the florist. He picked out every long-stem red rose and for double the usual delivery fee he was able to have them sent to Serena right away. He attached a
note:

  This is only the beginning...

  J

  The singers were still entertaining people as Jackson made his way to the jewelry store. He was going to get Serena a real Christmas present. One that was all wrapped in shiny paper and tied up with a red bow. It would be a gift that told her exactly how he felt about her.

  The jewelry store had exactly what he had in mind. And his plan was taking shape. On his way out of the store, he knew what else he needed in order to get Serena’s full attention.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  READING WAS GOOD.

  They said that it could be an escape from reality. And right now, Serena needed to escape from the mess she’d made of her life. After all, no way did an actress and a television journalist belong together. Just the thought of it would have made her father roll in his grave.

  Serena focused on the words on the page. Her eyes scanned the sentence and then the next. By the time she got to the third sentence, she’d forgotten what she’d read in the beginning.

  And so she returned to the beginning of the paragraph, intent on reading this reference book on writing screenplays. She really did enjoy writing her first screenplay and though her second had hit a snag, she was certain if she kept at it, the story would come together.

  Just over the top of the book, she spotted the large bouquet of red roses that Jackson had sent her. She rested the book against her chest as she continued to stare at the beautiful blossoms nestled in a sea of baby’s breath. She’d placed them on the coffee table.

  She should probably just get rid of them—out of sight, out of mind. But they were so beautiful. It would be a crime to do away with them.

  But it was the attached card that had stirred her interest. What had Jackson meant by saying this was just the beginning? Had he had a change of heart? Were these flowers something that he’d planned before their big blowup? If so, he obviously didn’t know that red roses symbolized unconditional love.

  Her contemplation came to a halt as she heard not one, but multiple car engines. This was followed by a string of car doors closing. Gizmo awoke from his nap and started his guard dog routine of bark-bark-howl. Bark-bark-howl. Repeat. He took off toward the door to defend his home.