The Christmas Secret

“Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. That’ll be fun. The birthday, I mean. Um …” Sam had to know. “When is it?”

“December fifteenth.”

Sam struggled to stay calm, even though the date knocked the breath out of her. Of all the bizarre coincidences, William and her son—both of AJ’s sons—were born on the same day. There was no longer any doubt that he’d been sleeping with her and William’s mother at the same time. Still, for his wife to have a baby on the same day she did … it was crazy.

What if …?

You’re the one who’s crazy. There’s no way William is your son.

Unless … had AJ found out she was pregnant?

Snippets of recent events flashed through her mind. AJ had been reluctant to take them into the kitchen that first day, when Will was out in the yard. He was awkward and edgy when she and Will were in the same room together. Was it because he felt guilty for cheating on his wife? Or was it something even more underhanded?

Dear Reader,

The Christmas Secret combines all of my favorite things in one story—a woman with an untraditional career, a single dad, a secret baby, a puppy and, of course, Christmas! The real inspiration for this book, though, was my love of home-and-garden shows on television. DIY, home decorating, real estate—I love them all! So I thought, why not combine them into one business? Ready Set Sold is that business and it’s owned by three women—a carpenter, an interior decorator and a real-estate agent.

When Andrew “AJ” Harris hires Ready Set Sold to sell the house he inherited from his grandmother, he is unexpectedly reunited with Samantha Elliott, the only woman he’s ever loved, the woman he’s never been able to forget and the woman whose betrayal he can never forgive.

Sam has been keeping a secret and she’s sure that if AJ ever finds out, he’ll never forgive her. What she doesn’t know is that AJ has a secret, too, and now that Sam is temporarily back in his life, keeping that secret from her becomes all-important, not just for his sake but for their son’s.

I hope you enjoy Sam and AJ’s journey as they discover that once all the secrets are out in the open, love and forgiveness go hand in hand. I love to hear from readers, so I also hope you’ll visit me at my website, www.leemckenzie.com.

Happy holidays!

Lee McKenzie

From the time she was ten years old and read Anne of Green Gables and Little Women, LEE MCKENZIE knew she wanted to be a writer, just like Anne and Jo. In the intervening years, she has written everything from advertising copy to an honors thesis in paleontology, but becoming a four-time Golden Heart finalist and a Harlequin author are among her proudest accomplishments. Lee and her artist/teacher husband live on an island along Canada’s west coast, and she loves to spend time with two of her best friends—her grown-up children.

Books by Lee McKenzie

AMERICAN ROMANCE 1167—THE MAN FOR MAGGIE 1192—WITH THIS RING 1316—FIREFIGHTER DADDY 1340—THE WEDDING BARGAIN

The Christmas Secret

Lee McKenzie

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Joe

Chapter One

Grandmother Harris’s backyard was a perfect place for a little boy and his dog to play. AJ Harris walked out onto the deck, coffee in hand, in time to see his son romp across the lawn with their chocolate-colored Labradoodle puppy in hot pursuit, both under the watchful eye of his nanny, Annie Dobson. He left the door ajar so he could hear the doorbell when it rang and went down the steps to join them.

“Taking a break, Mr. Harris?” Annie asked. She was sitting in one of the old Adirondacks that had been in this yard for as long as he could remember, steam rising from her teacup into the cool morning air.

“That’s one of the best things about working at home. I can take a break whenever I want.” The best part, though, was being his own boss instead of one of his father’s employees.

“Daddy! I playing with Hawshey!”

“I am playing with Hershey,” he said.

“Sam-I-am!” His son shouted the name from his favorite book, then stopped running and flung himself on the grass, laughing and shrieking when the puppy pounced on him.

“William! Don’t let that creature lick your face.” Annie’s reprimand was firm but gentle. “You’ve seen what else he licks. For goodness’ sake, think of the germs!”

AJ sat in the chair next to hers and set his cup on the arm. The boy and his dog were up and running again and the sound of Will’s laughter lightened AJ’s mood in a way nothing else could.

“I appreciate you bringing them out here to play,” he said. “I would have taken them to the park like I usually do, but the real estate people will be here any minute.”

“A little fresh air never hurt an old lady like me, either, and it’s a nice day for late November.” Annie sipped her tea. “I’ll miss this old place.”

So would he. His earliest and certainly happiest memories were of times spent here. He hated having to sell the house, but it was the best option. Hell, it was his only option. Grandmother Harris was gone, his only other family ties in Seattle were his parents, and they hadn’t spoken to him since the day he’d brought his son home from the hospital. And for the past three years he’d felt as though he was holding his breath and hoping his past didn’t catch up to him.

He was looking forward to a fresh start, and for that he needed the money from this inheritance. He and his son would build a new life in Idaho, in a community where being “a Harris” meant nothing. Where there was no possibility of running into his family, and no possibility of a chance encounter with the woman who had selfishly abandoned their son.

His main reason for leaving the city, though, was William. The little boy had recently taken an interest in mothers from a story they’d read. In a few years he would start asking about his mother, maybe even wanting to see her. Best to leave now, before Will was old enough to wonder about the woman who had brought him into the world, before his early childhood in Seattle became fixed in his memory. When he finally did ask, AJ had no idea what he would tell him, but that day was a long way off. At least he hoped it was. He swore it would be the only time he would ever lie to his son, but he would have to. No child needed to know that his own mother hadn’t wanted him.

He and Will would miss Annie Dobson, too, but she had no desire to move to a cabin on the outskirts of a small town in Idaho, and who could blame her? Besides, it was probably time she thought about retirement.

The doorbell’s four chimes, one slightly off-key, pulled his attention back to the present.

“I’ll keep young William and the puppy out here so they’re not underfoot,” Annie said.

“Thanks. I appreciate that. When this meeting is over, I’ll take them off your hands for a while.”

This real estate company had been referred to him by a magazine editor who’d bought a couple of freelance articles from him last month. He’d met with a Ms. DeAngelo earlier in the week, had been impressed with her businesslike efficiency and had signed the contract and hired her on the spot. This morning she was bringing her “team of professionals” from Ready Set Sold to inspect the house. His grandmother’s century-old craftsman home was situated in Seattle’s fashionable Queen Anne neighborhood overlooking Lake Union, but after years of neglect that’s all it had going for it. Ms. DeAngelo—he couldn’t remember her first name—had assured him her company would make the necessary upgrades and repairs, and “stage the house for today’s market.” They would even help him figure out what to do with his grandmother’s personal belongings.

Inside the kitchen, he closed the creaky French doors and walked through the dining room and living room, past many decades’ worth of furniture and bric-a-brac—some antique and some not so antique—and into the foyer. He opened the door and slammed headlong into his past.

Samantha Elliott, Will’s mother, the one woman whose betrayal he would never forget, or forgive, stood on the veranda. A multitude of emotions tore through him. Resentment, distrust, disgust, but in the end fear won out. The deadweight of it actually squeezed the air out of his lungs. For the past three years he’d lived under a dark cloud, determined to keep his secret. Why, when he was so close to escaping Seattle and his past, did some Machiavellian twist of fate have to deliver up the one person who had the power to take it all away?

“AJ?” The surprise in her voice matched his. She stepped back, checked the numbers above the door and consulted the clipboard she was carrying.

Was it possible she was at the wrong house? That perhaps the Fates were merely playing a devious practical joke?

“Sam.” He immediately regretted saying her name out loud. It made her being there a reality when he desperately wanted it to be a trick of his imagination. “What do you want?” He hated to ask but had to know.

She handed him a business card.

Selling your home?

Looking to get top dollar in today’s competitive real estate market?

Call Samantha Elliott at READY SET SOLD 1-800-555-SOLD www.Ready-Set-Sold.net The card was identical to the one Ms. DeAngelo had given him, except for where it said Call Samantha Elliott.

“I’m one of the owners of Ready Set Sold. We’ve been hired to get this house ready to sell. Is this …?” Her voice trailed off the way it often had, leaving her thoughts unspoken.

His fear downgraded to anxiety. She didn’t know his secret. That’s not why she was here. “It’s my grandmother’s house. It was. She left it to me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. About your grandmother, I mean. Not the house.” She glanced back at the street, then at her watch. “Um … I’m meeting my business partners here. I guess I’m early. I can wait …” A car door slammed and Sam looked relieved. “Oh, good. Here’s Claire.”

Right. Claire. The woman he’d met earlier in the week walked briskly up the front sidewalk and climbed the stairs, confident in spite of her high heels. Sam, he noticed, was wearing work boots. Toes reinforced with steel, no doubt. Just like her heart.

Claire extended her hand. “Mr. Harris. Hello. Nice to see you again. I see you’ve already met our carpenter, Samantha Elliott. Kristi Callahan, our interior decorator, should be here any minute.”

He accepted her handshake. “Please, call me AJ. Mr. Harris is my father.”

Sam’s blue eyes went icy at the mention of the old man. He couldn’t fault her for that.

An old white minivan in desperate need of a muffler pulled up and sputtered to a stop behind the dark blue truck and the silver-gray sedan already parked in front of the house. All three vehicles had the Ready Set Sold logo on their doors.

The third woman joined them, and Claire introduced her. “AJ Harris, this is Kristi Callahan, decorator extraordinaire.”

AJ was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of being … overwhelmed. This was a bad idea. A very bad one. Not in a million years would he have hired this company if he’d known Sam was one of the owners. He should have done his homework, checked out their website, something. Instead he had been swayed by Claire DeAngelo’s no-nonsense approach and businesslike demeanor. Her company would take care of everything and he would walk away with enough cash for him and his son to start a new life, well away from the woman who had just barged into his old one.

“We’ll do a walk-through this morning,” Claire said. “After we’ve done the inspection, we’ll prepare a list of the repairs and upgrades needed and come up with a design plan for staging the house.”

It all sounded so easy, except he knew now those repairs would be done by Sam.

“Should we get started?” Claire asked.

He looked at Sam again and felt himself drawn into her soft, doe-eyed gaze. She was beautiful and he hated her for it. He wanted to say no, he’d changed his mind and would come up with another plan for selling the house, yet his latent curiosity wanted to keep her here. Find out if maybe she had changed. It was foolhardy and dangerous, but he hadn’t felt this alive since the last time he’d been with her.

He stepped aside, allowing the three women into his home and Samantha Elliott back into his life.

Samantha reluctantly followed her two business partners inside. She really needed to pay more attention to the business end of the company. If she had, she would have known they’d been hired by Andrew James Harris of the Seattle Harris family, and she could have put a stop to it before he signed the contract. The last time she’d worked for him had not ended well, and this new undertaking had disaster written all over it.

Still, she assured herself, the past was the past and there was no way AJ could discover the secret she’d buried with it. The only other person who knew the truth was her mother, and anyone acquainted with Tildy Elliott would never believe the story. They would assume it was simply one of the many delusions that governed Tildy’s life.

You’ll be okay, Sam told herself. Besides, Claire and Kristi always had her back. If the situation got out of hand, she’d convince them to hire another carpenter for this job. That meant she’d have to tell them about her ill-fated affair with AJ Harris, but she wouldn’t have to tell them everything.

Now, with AJ within arm’s reach and as unattainable as ever, she was still struggling to overcome the shock of having him open the door. Three years ago she had been desperately in love with him, thought they were perfect together. Her sorry excuse for a life had made it easy to relate to his tall, dark and tortured disposition. What little they had shared about their pasts had forged a deep, emotional connection between them … or so she’d thought at the time. But he was AJ Harris of the Seattle Harrises and she was Samantha Nobody. A reality his father had zeroed in on in the cruelest way possible and one that AJ had agreed with, leaving her to cope with the aftermath of their affair … alone.

“Let’s start right here in the foyer,” Claire said. “The millwork is in unbelievably good condition and it’s never been painted. The whole house is like this, right?” AJ nodded.

“What do you think, Kristi? I know the current trend is to paint the trim, but the natural wood suits this old craftsman architecture.”

Kristi, camera in hand, was already taking photographs. “I agree. Once the wallpaper’s been stripped and we give the walls a fresh coat of paint—I’m seeing ivory or off-white—this room will feel brighter and more spacious. I love this old oak hall tree, too. It should stay but we’ll get rid of a lot of the clutter and replace all these scatter mats with a runner.” She lowered her camera for a moment. “I love this banister. With the holidays coming, I’ll stage the house for Christmas.” She looped the camera strap around her neck and made a wide, sweeping gesture at the staircase. “Faux greenery, big red velvet bows—it’ll be stunning.”

“Great idea. What are your thoughts, Sam?”

Sam thought she should make a run for it. Clearly not what Claire had in mind. And as for Christmas … bah humbug. “Taking down the wallpaper will be easy, and I can install a new light fixture, too. This one isn’t original and really doesn’t suit the house.”

AJ, who stood with both hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans, looked up at the ceiling and studied the out-of-place pendant as though seeing it for the first time. Then he looked at Sam. Their gazes locked and held, and a rush of long-dormant lust uncoiled in her belly.

This was not good.

AJ looked away, but she knew he’d felt it, too. Judging by the way Claire was eyeing them, even she’d picked up on it. Great. Now this would be a hot topic at their weekly business meeting tomorrow morning. Sam wouldn’t have to tell them everything. Only that she and their new client had once had a brief affair followed by a messy breakup.

Kristi, focused on the monitor of her camera and the offending light fixture, was oblivious to everything else. “Got it,” she said. “Okay, that’s it for this room.”

With shaky hands Sam scrawled a reminder on her clipboard to check the storage facility for old light fixtures. She’d picked up several at a demolition sale last winter and one of them might work here.

“We can discuss the living and dining rooms later,” Claire said. “Let’s move on to the kitchen. From what I remember when I was here the other day, that room and the main bath upstairs need the most work.”

Just her lousy luck, Sam thought. Those were the rooms that took the longest to renovate, which meant this job could take a while. She shot another hasty glance at AJ, in time to catch a flash of panic. Hmm. There was something in the kitchen he didn’t want them to see, and Sam knew with absolute certainty it was more than a sink full of dirty dishes. Claire was already on her way, though, so they trooped through the house behind her.

Sam hung back and tried to ignore AJ’s presence while she took in the room. The kitchen wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad, either. The cabinets were dated, but fresh paint and new hardware would fix that. The appliances were relatively new, but the gold-flecked countertop and starburst-patterned linoleum screamed seventies. They definitely had to be replaced.

Kristi was already taking photographs. “There’s way too much clutter,” she said, then she lowered her camera and smiled at AJ. “Sorry, but having all these canisters and gadgets on display makes the room feel much smaller than it is. We want potential buyers to walk in and immediately see a place for their espresso machine instead of thinking their things will never work in here.”

AJ shrugged. “All these things belonged to my grandmother. I would have cleared everything out, but I wasn’t sure what to do with them.”

Kristi flashed a reassuring smile. “That’s what we’re here for,” she said. “By the time we’re finished, it’ll be a brand-new kitchen.” She fingered the floral curtains on the kitchen window. “Vintage. Good shape, too.” Then something outside seemed to catch her attention. “Oh, what an adorable little boy. Is that your son?”

Sam’s heart thundered in her chest. AJ had a child?

Chapter Two

Brimming with anger and overcome with grief, Sam steadied herself by leaning against the door frame.

Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. You can get through this.

AJ’s nod in response to Kristi’s question was almost imperceptible. He didn’t look at Sam, but she still detected the same raw emotion that had greeted her at the door, along with the panic she’d seen when Claire suggested they come in here.

“How old is he?” Kristi asked. “Three? Four?”

AJ still wouldn’t look at Sam, and she couldn’t have torn her gaze away from him if she tried. “No,” he said. “He’s … ah … just two.”

Two. AJ had a two-year-old son. Which meant he must have a wife. A wife who was probably already married to him when he’d been sleeping with Sam. Which meant he’d been busy getting his wife pregnant while Sam had grappled with the decision to give her son a better life than she ever could.

Oh, God. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart raced as scenes from the past flashed through her mind at a dizzying pace, ending with AJ’s father. James Harris had said his son had a history of getting involved with women like her and then dumping them. She hadn’t believed him, even told him as much, but that hadn’t ended the conversation. He’d said that if she kept seeing AJ, he would put her out of business. Then he’d followed up that threat by saying her mother needed to be institutionalized and asking if she was prepared to do that. Blindsided—how in hell had he found out about her mother?—Sam knew then he wasn’t just a dangerous man, he was evil. Her life was already hard enough, and she thought being in love was supposed to make it easier.

Ending things with AJ had been the easy part. He had accepted it with a dismissive shrug, exactly like the one his father had given her when she said putting her mother in an institution wasn’t an option. Like father, like son? She hadn’t completely believed it then, but she did now.

A month later she suspected she might be pregnant, and by the time she’d moved past the denial and finally saw a doctor, she was further along than she’d realized. She couldn’t abandon her mother, but neither could she raise a child in the unstable environment she’d grown up in. The rest was inevitable.

“He’s adorable. Cute dog, too.” As usual, Kristi was oblivious to the elephant in the room. “He looks tall for his age. Must get that from his dad.”

AJ looked as though he wished she would stop talking. Sam sure as hell did.

“What about your wife?” Kristi asked, still not picking up on the tension. “Will she mind having us in the way?”

AJ’s eyes darted in Sam’s direction, but he looked away before his gaze met hers.

Coward, she thought. Two-timing bastard.

“My … ah … she doesn’t live here. I have a nanny who takes care of … us. And the house. She’s outside right now with … ah … you’ll meet her later.”

Claire, who never missed a trick, had been studying Sam’s reaction to all this new information. Now, to Sam’s relief, she took control of the conversation and redirected it back to their reason for being here. “I didn’t realize you had a family. We’ll do our best to keep the disruption to a minimum.”

“Please, I don’t want you to worry about that. I work at home but I’ll … we’ll stay out of your way.”

The questions kept tumbling through Sam’s mind. Had his wife left him? No surprise there, but to leave her child behind? How could she? Then again, based on her experience with the Harris family, she might not have had any say in the matter. AJ working at home was a surprise, though. He was in line to take over the business when his father retired. Could he run such a huge company from home?

Sam realized she was still staring at him while he continued to avoid looking at her. He’d never worn a ring, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t married when they were dating. Who are you kidding? They had never gone on a date. All they did was sleep together. After his father’s ultimatum, she had assumed AJ kept their affair a secret because, like his father, he’d thought she was good enough to sleep with a Harris but not good enough to be a Harris. Now it seemed he wasn’t just arrogant, he was married. Ringless, but married.

“Sam?” Claire’s voice gently interrupted her nightmarish journey through the past. “What are your thoughts about the kitchen?”

They could throw a stick of dynamite in it for all she cared. “We should paint the cabinets, for sure. Replace the counter and flooring, and bring in another new light fixture.” She should take a closer look at the sink and faucet, but she would have to cross the kitchen to do that. Then she’d be standing by the window and … and she couldn’t look out there. Not yet. She needed time to adjust to the reality that AJ had a son … and she didn’t.

Three years ago she’d given away a part of herself when she’d put her son up for adoption. She hadn’t even had the luxury of mourning her loss. She’d had to get back to work because she had to put food on the table, pay rent and her mother’s medical bills. She had coped with her loss the same way she coped with everything else in her life—by carrying on with her responsibilities and not letting herself think about how much her life sucked.