Her Christmas Temptation: The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas / What She Really Wants for Christmas / Baby, It's Cold Outside
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Jack gestured for her to go first. “My mother’s name is Liza. My sister is Elaine. Then there’s my aunt Gwen and my cousin Melanie, Hunter’s sister.”
Kristy repeated the names to herself as they made their way along the hall and down the main staircase. Garlands of fresh cedar adorned the railing and banisters. The charming scent filled the air.
A small group of people stood chatting in the great room. Hunter asked Jack a question as they walked through the door. Kristy could see Cleveland in a conversation in the middle of the room, a crystal tumbler in one hand, and Dee Dee parked by his feet. He was sporting a Santa hat, perched jauntily atop his head. Leaving Jack behind, she moved closer to Cleveland, then she crouched down slightly.
“Dee Dee,” she sang softly to get her dog’s attention.
Dee Dee raised her head, but didn’t come to her feet.
“He’s spoiled her,” came a female voice next to Kristy.
Kristy straightened and smiled at the young woman. “I may have to leave her here when I go.”
She was a brunette, twentysomething, and she arched a finely sculpted eyebrow. “You’re going somewhere?”
“London,” said Kristy easily. Then she held out her hand. “I’m Kristy Mahoney.”
The woman gave a gentle handshake. “Not Osland?”
Kristy shook her head.
“Well, I’m Elaine Osland. We appear to be sisters-in-law.”
“It’s good to meet you.”
“You, too.” Elaine took a sip of her martini, watching Kristy closely. “I hear it was a small wedding?”
“About as small as you can get.”
“In Vegas?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Out of the blue I take it?”
“It was a whirlwind courtship.”
“That’s not like Jack.”
“It’s not like me, either.”
“More like his grandfather.”
Kristy laughed, but it sounded nervous even to her ears. “Really.”
“I hear you’re into fashion design.”
“I am. And what do you do?”
Elaine waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s talk about you.”
Kristy paused. “I take it you’re the interrogation committee?”
Elaine had the good grace to grin sheepishly. “That’s because you haven’t met my mother yet.”
Kristy glanced around the room.
“In the green sequin jacket,” said Elaine.
The woman’s shrewd eyes met Kristy’s gaze, and Kristy quickly looked away.
“Any tips?” she asked Elaine.
Elaine chuckled. “Stand up straight, don’t let her intimidate you and always tell the truth.”
“Are there any electrodes or heart-rate monitors involved?”
“Only if you make her suspicious.”
“Suspicious of what?”
“Your motivations for marrying my brother, silly.”
“I had no motivations.”
“See, she’s going to wonder.”
“It was a crazy weekend romance in Vegas,” Kristy told Elaine honestly. “He took me on a balloon ride, and I was a goner.” She wasn’t even lying about that part.
She felt a hand on the small of her back and knew immediately it was Jack.
“Everything okay here?” he asked.
“The electrodes haven’t come out yet,” said Kristy.
“We’re just having a chat,” Elaine put in, giving her brother a quick hug.
“You be nice,” Jack warned his sister.
“I’m always nice. I hear you fell in love on a balloon ride.” She cocked her head to watch his expression.
“You heard right,” said Jack. “It was over the Grand Canyon, and I was charming as hell.”
“Hmm,” said Elaine.
“Don’t ‘hmm’ me,” Jack retorted.
Elaine glanced back and forth between the two. “Only two days?”
Jack sighed. “Back off. And tell Mom to back off, too.”
Elaine snorted indelicately. “Yeah, right.” She turned her attention to Kristy again. “So, tell me all about your design business.”
“I mean it,” said Jack.
“I’m simply making conversation,” Elaine retorted.
Jack took Kristy’s arm. “I’d like to introduce you to my mother.” He guided her away.
“Will I do any better with her?” she whispered as they crossed the room, feeling as if she was being put in front of a firing squad.
“You’re doing fine.”
“I’m going with the truth. It was a whirlwind courtship in Vegas, and you were charming.”
He nodded. “That works.” Then he put a broad smile on his face as they approached the slender woman in the emerald-green jacket.
“Mom,” he said. “I’d like you to meet Kristy.”
The woman turned to face them. She was somewhere between fifty and sixty, and her hair, makeup and jewelry were obviously the products of considerable wealth. Kristy recognized the jacket as a Delilah Domtar, and the slacks as William Ping.
She was tall and beautiful, but the warmth in her eyes when she greeted Jack dimmed somewhat when she looked at Kristy.
“Kristy, this is my mother, Liza.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Kristy, bravely holding out a hand.
Liza looked her up and down. “The pleasure is mine, I’m sure.”
The words were correct, but the tone left Kristy wanting to apologize for something.
“There you are, Kristy!” Cleveland’s voice boomed. “Meeting my youngest daughter, I see.”
Kristy smiled in relief, and she bent down to pick up Dee Dee, a welcome distraction. “Hello, Cleveland. Nice hat.”
“Thanks. Kristy here is a genius,” Cleveland said to Liza.
“I’m sure she’s quite the little scholar,” said Liza.
Hugging Dee Dee close, Kristy caught an apology in Jack’s eyes.
“Don’t get yourself in a snit,” Cleveland admonished Liza.
Liza glanced at Kristy and then Jack. “An invitation to the wedding was too much to ask?”
“It wasn’t really a wedding,” Kristy blurted, experiencing a pang of sympathy for the woman. Her own mother would be—
Her mother.
Good Lord, her mother.
She turned to Jack, feeling the blood drain from her face. “I have to make a phone call.”
He looked confused. “Now?”
“I’m sorry.” She handed Dee Dee to Cleveland and started to move away.
Jack caught her arm to stop her.
She mouthed the words my parents.
He drew back, comprehension dawning in his eyes.
“Will you excuse us for a moment?” he asked the group of guests.
“Dinner is in fifteen minutes,” warned Liza.
With Jack at her side, Kristy left the great room and paced to the rotunda foyer.
“This is a disaster,” she hissed.
“Just tell them what we’re telling everyone else.”
She stopped and turned around in front of the settee. “They’re my parents.” Joe and Amy Mahoney were hardworking, generous and hopelessly romantic. Amy’s wedding dress had been preserved in blue tissue paper for thirty years, waiting for either Kristy or Sinclair to find the right man. And when they sold their house in Brooklyn, instead of buying beachfront in Florida, they bought something modest, a block away, to make sure they could afford fashionable weddings for their two daughters.
He gestured back to the great room. “Who do you think we were just talking to?”
“That’s different.”
His lips compressed. But then his eyes unexpectedly softened. “You’re right. It is. Tell me how I can help.”
She looked at the floor. There was nothing he could do.
Her mother would be thrilled, thrilled to hear that Kristy had fallen in love. Her father would hold off until he met Jack—which would be as soon as humanly possible. Then there’d be talk of grandchildren. Her parents would emotionally engage in some big, complicated fantasy of the future. Then their hopes would be dashed when the divorce was announced.
Kristy groaned.
Jack slipped an arm around her. “It’s going to be okay,” he muttered. “We’ll make it okay.”
She shook her head in denial. It wasn’t going to be okay. It was going to be horrible. “They’ll want to get on a plane. They’ll want to meet you in person.”
“I’ll send the jet.”
“They can’t come here.”
Jack nodded. “Oh, right. That would be way too complicated.” He gripped the back of his neck. “What about London?”
“London?”
“Ask them to meet us in London.”
“You’re not coming to London.”
He paused. “Good point. Okay. How about this. Tell them you’ve met a nice man. And you’re spending Christmas with him, and you’ll keep them posted. That way, if they find out about the marriage, you can say we were planning to surprise them together in person. And if they don’t find out, we divorce, life goes on and everybody’s happy.”
Kristy considered the idea.
It was a long shot. But it might work. At least it gave them a fighting chance.
Jack handed her his cell phone.
CHAPTER NINE
A WEEK LATER, Kristy’s double fashion collection mirrored double life.
On the one hand, she was plain old single, struggling Kristy Mahoney. On the other, she was Mrs. Jack Osland. Her husband was flying in fabrics and accessories from Paris and Milan, while wedding gifts arrived almost hourly from pricey boutiques around the globe. She was careful not to let herself get attached to any of the expensive silver and china, and she was leaving Jack to worry about returning it when all was said and done.
Out in the workshop, she was working on two sets of sketches and two clothing collections. One was the revamped collection developed with the help of Irene and the Sierra Sanchez team. The other was the wild fantasy clothing she’d created around her Vegas trip with Jack.
Two assistants had arrived the first morning after she’d shown up at the mansion. Local women, Isabella and Megan were both competent seamstresses and cheerful companions. Kristy was making steady progress on the real collection during the day. In the evening though, she couldn’t resist using the expensive laces and fabrics to mock up some of the fantasy pieces.
“More lace,” Isabella called above the hum from Megan’s sewing machine. She balanced a huge white box in her arms as she closed the door behind another delivery man.
“Look at that,” Megan whistled as they opened the box.
Kristy crossed the room. The box held beaded, corded, Chantilly, metallic and colored laces.
Isabella tsk-tsked. “I sure wish we were making something with lace.”
What Kristy wished was that they were showing something with lace. The Irene collection—as she’d begun calling it in her head—was sleek and sophisticated, where the fantasy collection was flirty and fun. Kristy would be able to use all kinds of different lace on the fantasy collection. It was just too bad nobody but her would ever see it.
She was halfway through sewing the sexy, short desert dress. For that one, the lace would be key. It had to be stiff to fill out the skirt, and the edging needed to be dramatic to draw the eye, but the detail had to mimic the frothing waterfall. Kristy smiled at the memory.
“What?” asked Isabella.
Kristy immediately erased the smile. “We’d better get back to work.”
They closed the box, but Kristy didn’t take her own advice. Instead of settling on a fabric for the Irene collection slacks, she gazed out the window at the delicate snow-flakes catching the bare branches of maple trees.
She saw the hot-air balloon again. It morphed into striped pants made of thin nylon in the same primary colors. She’d pair that with a cropped top of blue or red or … the lace! That was it. Thin out the stripes, make the top out of lace—flat cotton eyelet perhaps. She could even use a color, or maybe colored buttons down the front of the top.
Kristy surreptitiously flipped to a blank page in her sketch book. Multicolored buttons would match the colors in the pants. The lace would tie in with the frothy skirt. She put a few bold strokes across the pages, and she was off and running.
“Kristy?” Megan’s voice seemed a long way off, and Kristy realized a couple of hours had gone by. Her shoulders and hand were starting to cramp.
She looked up. “Yes?”
“We’re heading out now.”
Kristy nodded. “Of course. Thanks.”
“We can probably do a first fitting on the blue dress tomorrow. The Harold Agency said they’d send a couple of models.”
Kristy nodded again. “That’s great. And the green one?”
“We can cut the silk tomorrow,” said Isabella.
“Thanks, guys,” said Kristy.
“See you in the morning.” They waved and opened the door, nearly bumping into Hunter on their way out.
They greeted him, and he bade them goodbye, then closed the shop door after them.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, strolling over to Kristy.
She closed the sketch book of fantasy designer drawings like a guilty little secret and stood to stretch her shoulders. “Not bad.”
He nodded, glancing around. “Looks like you’re doing a lot of work.”
“That’s because I am.” In fact, it was double the work it should have been. But that was Kristy’s own fault. Her own, self-indulgent fault.
“You working late again tonight.”
“For a while. Did you need something?”
“Gramps asked if you’d—”
The shop door burst open, cutting off Hunter’s words.
Kristy blinked in astonishment at the image of her sister in a bright-green woolen coat with a matching beret.
She stood. “Sinclair? What on earth?”
Sinclair marched into the room, gesturing to Hunter with her thumb. “Is this the guy?”
“What are you doing here?”
Sinclair whipped off the beret, revealing her wild auburn hair. “Am I not your best friend? Your confidante? Your partner in crime?”
“Hold on,” said Hunter, drawing Sinclair’s attention, and her ire.
“And you,” she said to Hunter, marching forward. “You married my sister?”
The word married clanged in Kristy’s ears. “Wait a minute. How did you—”
“The old man in the house.” Sinclair kept her focus on Hunter. “Where did you meet her?”
“On my jet,” said Hunter.
“Hunter, don’t—”
“Money doesn’t give you carte blanche,” said Sinclair, pacing around him. “She has a family, people who love her. People who deserved to meet you, before—”
“Sinclair.”
“Before I kidnapped her and dragged her off to my lair?” asked Hunter.
“There’s no need to be sarcastic,” said Sinclair.
“And there’s no need to blitz in here like the Tasmanian Devil.”
“I want some answers.”
“Then shut up for a minute and listen.”
To Kristy’s surprise, Sinclair actually did.
“He’s not my husband,” said Kristy.
“Somebody looking for me?” drawled Jack from the doorway.
Sinclair spun to face him. She blinked from one man to the other.
“Jack, Hunter. This is my sister, Sinclair. Sinclair, this is my husband, Jack, and his cousin Hunter.”
“Mom told me you’d met a man.” Sinclair unbuttoned her long coat.
“I did.”
Sinclair eyed Jack up and down. “She didn’t tell me you’d married him.” She pulled a cell phone from the pocket and hit a speed-dial button.
Kristy jerked forward, visions of her mother on the other end of the line. “Who are you calling?”
“The airline,” said Sinclair. “I had a four-hour stopover. But clearly, I’ll be staying the night.”
“Is she always this bossy?” asked Hunter.
“Is he always this rude?” asked Sinclair.
“Pleasure to meet you,” said Jack, advancing with his hand out.
Sinclair shook, cradling the phone against her neck. “I have a few questions.”
“Me, too,” said Jack. “You know how to skate?”
Before Sinclair could answer him, her phone call connected, distracting her. She listened for a few seconds, then pushed a button.
“We’re skating on the pond tonight,” Jack explained to Kristy. “It’s a traditional thing. Mom would love to have you join us.”
“I should talk to Sinclair first.”
“She can talk to both of us,” said Jack.
Sinclair covered the mouthpiece. “I don’t really care who I talk to. As long as somebody starts talking.”
“Jack and I met in Vegas,” said Kristy. “It was a whirlwind courtship.”
“You … you got married in Vegas?”
“I did.”
“And this doesn’t warrant a phone call?”
“We were waiting—”
“For what?”
“To tell Mom and Dad in person.”
“I’m not Mom and Dad.”
Kristy blew out a breath. “I know.”
Jack put an arm around her. If he’d tried that when she’d first arrived at the mansion, she would have shrugged it off. Now, she reveled in the strength and comfort of his simple gesture. “I think Kristy was somewhat embarrassed. She’s not normally impulsive.”
“And you know what she’s normally like, do you?”
“She’s my wife.”
Sinclair shook her head. “Hello?” she said into the phone, turning away. “Yes. I’d like to change my ticket.”
“You okay?” Jack asked.
“Not really,” replied Kristy.
Hunter moved closer. “You want me to get rid of her?”
Kristy couldn’t help but smile. “You offering to harm my sister?”
“I meant get her out of the room,” clarified Hunter.
“She’ll calm down in a minute.”
Sinclair finished her call.
“I’ll skate if I have to,” she informed Jack. “As long as somebody does some talking while I’m skating. And as long as there is some kind of alcoholic beverage at the end.”
Then she moved forward and drew Kristy into a one-armed hug. “I wanted to be a bridesmaid,” she muttered. “How could you do this to me?”
“Jack is persuasive,” Kristy answered.
Sinclair drew back, smoothing the front of Kristy’s hair. “Obviously. And I want to hear all about it.”
THE MOON WAS full, the stars snapping bright, and strings of white Christmas bulbs illuminated the periphery of the glassy pond. Jack’s gloved hand was tucked into Kristy’s as they made lazy circles around the edge of the ice.
He could see Hunter in the distance, annoying Sinclair by skating around her as she struggled to stay on her feet. Further back was his family. Cleveland carried Dee Dee, while Elaine and Melanie laughed their way through fumbled spins and jumps.
Beside him, Kristy looked beautiful. Her cheeks were rosy beneath her fur-trimmed hat. Her lips were full and dark, and her eyes glowed indigo beneath her thick lashes.
“I seriously thought about telling her the truth,” she admitted, referring to her private conversation with Sinclair at the beginning of the excursion.
“But you didn’t?” Jack asked, enjoying the feel of her small hand in his. He turned and snagged the other, skating backward so they were facing each other.
She sighed. “I stuck with our story.”
The urge to lean forward and kiss her was so strong. “Will she tell your parents?” he asked instead.
Kristy shook her head. “She promised me she’d wait and let me tell them in person.”
“That’s good.”
“There’s nothing at all good about this.”
“I disagree.”
“How can you disagree? The whole damn world thinks we’re married.”
He shrugged, not really caring what anybody in the world thought. It was getting harder and harder to regret spending time with Kristy. In fact, he was getting greedy for more of it. She was working such long hours on the collection. He was proud of her.
“You know what they say,” he offered, fighting the urge to draw her closer.
“There’s something about our circumstances people ‘say’?”
He smiled softly, the idea gelling in his mind. “There is— If you can’t beat them …”
“What are you talking about?”
“Join them,” he offered. “Haven’t you ever heard that saying?”
“Join them in what?”
“Thinking we’re married.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. Think about it for a second. What if we were to buy into it along with the rest of them and be married for a while?”
“You’re suggesting we pretend we really are married?”
“We don’t have to pretend,” he reminded her.
“You know what I mean.”
“We had fun in Vegas. Didn’t we have fun in Vegas? You liked me there, right?”
“Vegas was a fantasy.”
“But you married me. That means I’m not such a bad guy.” He gave in and drew her toward him, letting them glide to a stop on the far side of the pond.
She gazed up at him, and there was a hint of something encouraging in her blue eyes. “You’re a liar, a cheat and a con man.”
He tipped his head, hoping he was right about the message in her eyes. “But you want to kiss me anyway.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Liar,” he whispered, moving closer.
“This better be for show,” she said.
“This isn’t for show.”
“Jack.”
“I really am going to kiss you.”
“I can’t pretend we’re married.”
“Sure you can.” His lips touched hers.
They were cool and soft and erotically delicious. In a split second, she was kissing him back.
He twined their fingers together, deepening the kiss, bending her backward, fighting the instinct to pull her fully into his arms. He kissed her as long as he dared. Then he slowly broke away.
“This is a bad idea,” she said.
“This is the best idea I’ve ever had. We are great together.”
He could see her skepticism.
He could tell she was about to say no, so he kept on talking. “Plus, we both know it’s a fantasy. How can there be anything wrong with a good fantasy?”
“Jack.”
“There’s some serious chemistry between us, Kristy. I know it, and you sure know it.” He could still feel her slick body responding under his hands. “We’re both adults,” he continued huskily. “We have a fantastic time. And we both walk away at the end.”
He kissed her again, this time he kept going until she was breathless.
“Where’s the harm?” he asked against her mouth.
She inhaled deeply, hesitated, then spoke. “Can I think about it?”
No! he wanted to shout.
“Sure,” he said instead.
“No. Oh, no!” Sinclair’s shriek echoed in the distance.
Jack and Kristy turned to the sound.
Hunter was behind her, hands on her hips, pushing her faster and faster and faster across the pond.
Jack couldn’t help but chuckle.
“She’s going to kill him,” Kristy muttered.
“I’d say he’s got the upper hand.”
“Sooner or later, he’ll have to stop. And then she’ll kill him.”
Jack doubted that.
He put an arm around Kristy. He wasn’t going to waste valuable time worrying about his cousin. He drew her against his side. It felt good, too good. He wished he dared put forward another argument. He couldn’t bear the thought of another celibate night sleeping next to her in his bed. There were moments when he honestly thought it might kill him.
But he knew he had to wait. Married or not, he was asking her for a holiday fling, and she had every right to say no.
KRISTY WAS going to say yes.
She’d known it before breakfast.
Heck, she’d known it half the night.
She’d forced herself to sleep on the idea. But deep down inside, she’d known all along she was going to make love with Jack again. He and Vegas had been constantly on her mind. It showed in the way her body hummed around him, and it showed in the fantasy clothes she’d created.
She was staring at them now. Megan and Isabella weren’t due for another half hour. Every morning, they dropped their kids off at school before making their way to the mansion.
Kristy ran her fingers over the waterfall dress and the hot-air-balloon pants, holding the kicky crop top up against her chest.
She’d added a bikini for the swim she and Jack hadn’t taken at the waterfall. She’d also mocked-up a cocktail dress out of a gorgeous piece of hand-dyed Mikado silk. It was black at the bottom, rising to midnight blue and orange then yellow like the desert sunset they’d shared.