The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride by L. Steele

35

Amelie

What the hell had happened there? One second, he’d been inside of me, his cock nestled in my pussy, his lips on mine, my legs tangled about him... The next, he’d ordered me to leave.

If there were a classic case of a man who was running scared that would be Weston Fucking Kincaid. Alphahole extraordinaire. Douchebag of the highest order. Bloody fruitcake, who doesn’t know his arse from his head… No. I shake my head. Reprobate snackadoodle who has his head stuck so far up his arse, he has no idea how good the pie is. I sniff. Not even when said pie hits him in the face, and splatters its contents over his beautiful mouth, and he licks it off and— OMG, what am I thinking?

I stumble down the stairs, almost miss a step, then right myself, slip on the next one, and come to a halt at the landing. My heart races, my pulse pounds, and a pressure boils behind my eyes. I will not cry; will not.

There’s a patter of paws on the wooden floor. Max comes bounding out of the open doors of the suite adjacent to the landing.

I bend down, gather him up, then sink down to sit on the step. "Hey little fella, did you miss me? Did ya now?" I rub his head, hold him close. A tear runs down my cheek; Max licks it up. He whines, then pushes his nose into the crook of my neck. I hug his little body closely as more tears flow down my face. Shit, stop it, stop it. Not your fault if he’s such an ass, a completely obnoxious man, Mr. Scrooge McFuck… Gah! Just because one of my favorite authors had released a book about a similar a-hole with that name doesn’t mean I have to call him that, huh?

I swallow down the ball of emotion in my throat. I have to get out of here, return to my life… Spend Christmas alone? My heart begins to thud. How could he do this? How? A sob catches in my chest. I glance around, then down at myself. Shit, I am still wearing his shirt—nothing else. I had left everything behind in that alphahole’s room. No way, am I going back for it.

Max barks, wriggles in my hold. "Oh, sorry little guy, did I crush you, huh?" I set him down, he darts forward toward the double doors that lead into the suite. Kirsten bends to pat him. Max brushes past her and rushes inside.

She straightens, then takes in my appearance.

I flush, "Umm… Uh, it’s not like what it seems."

She tilts her head, "Why don’t you come in and tell me about it?"

Twenty minutes later, I curl my legs under me, and take a sip of the fragrant cup of hot chocolate—no, it’s never too early in the day for comfort food—that she’d handed me.

Max places his paw on my borrowed PJ’s, and stares up at me. "I swear he has a sixth sense, huh?"

"Mum, why was Auntie Amelie crying?" Phoenix asks in a loud whisper.

Kirsten, pats her shoulder, "Because, uh, she had a fight."

"Lover’s quarrel, huh?" Skye wanders into the living room, her specs too big for her face. She has a book in her hand.

"Don’t you have homework to do?" Kirsten scolds her.

"I’ve completed my math assignment."

"What about Latin?"

"I hate Latin."

"Does she have to study Latin?" I ask.

"At her school, yes." Kirsten’s forehead furrows, then turns to Skye, "Go on, finish it."

"But… M-o-m," she wails, once more seeming her eleven-year-old self.

"I don’t need to study Latin to become a vet."

"You want to become a vet?"

She smiles, "I looove animals." She snaps her fingers; Max perks up, jumps off the sofa and races toward her.

"She and animals." Kirsten shakes her head, "I swear, she is a dog whisperer."

"And a cat one, and a hedgehog one," Skye adds.

"Hedgehog?" Kirsten scowls, "Young lady, if I find any more of those creatures in your room…I’ll…"

"Relax, Ma, I was only kidding you," she smirks. Her features resemble her uncle’s, aka the alphahole, aka the man who’d fucked me so thoroughly a few seconds ago... I blink. That tightness in my chest returns. I lower my chin, hide my face once again in my mug.

Kirsten draws in a breath, "Back to your studies, with you."

"Whatever." She returns to her room, Max at her heels.

"Can I do my homework too?" Phoenix beams up at her Mom.

"Go on then." Kirsten pulls Phe close, kisses her on the cheek. Phoenix turns to leave, then turns and runs to me. I place my mug back on the table, just in time, for she throws her arms around me.

"Oh," I hug the little girl back, "thanks, baby."

She kisses me on the cheek, then turns and races away.

"Kids," Kirsten sinks back in the arm chair, "they can sense when you’re unhappy, you know?"

I nod. "They are both beautiful; congratulations."

"Thanks." She beams. "Their father’s the disciplinarian; I spoil them I’m afraid."

"When will he be back?"

"Patrick?" Her face takes on a dreamy look, "Tomorrow, or tonight, if he can. He’s on a business trip with our oldest brother."

"Really?"

She frowns, "I take it, Weston didn’t mention that they work together?"

I shake my head.

"My father started a media company, that Liam now heads up."

"That’s your oldest sibling?"

She nods, "Patrick works with him. Weston… Well, after the incident, he changed. He needed to do something more meaningful with his life."

"Is that why he became a heart surgeon?” I ask, "Or was that to protect his own heart?"

She stares at me.

I flush. "Umm, sorry, didn't mean for it to come out that way, it's just..."

She waves her hand, "No offense taken. I was surprised, is all. I never thought about it like that, but you may be onto something.” She pauses, as if to commiserate with me. “I know how obnoxious my brother can be."

"That's putting it mildly." I mutter.

"I assume he's told you about the incident?" she asks.

"Some." I reply, my tone cautious. "He mentioned he and six of his friends were kidnapped and held captive for nearly a month when he was twelve, and during that time, each of them was exposed to some horrific punishment meted out to each of them by the kidnappers. It’s why he has a trigger when it comes to clocks and time-keeping devices," I swallow, "I guess."

She nods. "After the cops rescued Weston and the other boys from the kidnappers," she leans forward, "he felt like he had been given a new lease on life. He wanted to make sure he made the most of the opportunity. It's one of the reasons he wanted to become a surgeon." She crinkles her forehead, "Then our father died of an heart attack and that strengthened his resolve."

So, I'd been right about the second part, at least. I meet her gaze, "He seems to think it's because it gives him control over life and death."

"Do you believe him?" she scoffs.

"I am not sure what to make of him," I say honestly.

She looks me up and down, "So you guys had a fight this morning?"

"More than that." I heave out a sigh.

To her credit, she hadn’t been taken aback when she'd found me standing by the doorway to her suite. She hadn't asked me any questions either. She’d loaned me her clothes, then handed me the cup of hot chocolate. Hell, she hadn’t even been surprised that I’d asked her for cocoa, instead of tea… And that, puts her right at the top of my list.

"What happened between you two?" she asks.

"I…" I glance away, "I think we broke up."

"Fights are normal. They’re healthy in a relationship—"

"This is more than that." I jump up and begin to pace. "He told me to leave."

"The room?" her tone sharpens.

"His suite, his life… He told me it was over."

"He told you so, in no uncertain terms?"

Had he?I turn to her. "Yes," I reply.

"I don’t believe it," she scowls. "I saw the way he looks at you—"

"How?" I fold my arms around my waist. "How does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to eat you up?"

"Yeah." My cheeks heat. "I mean, we don’t have any issues in that, uh, department."

"The kind of chemistry between you two? It could boil water at fifty paces."

I laugh, "I thought I was the only one who made cooking analogies."

"I’ve been spending too much at home with the kids, ensuring dinner’s on the table when my husband arrives from work every evening."

"Do you regret it?"

"Not for a second." She leans back in her chair, reaches for her mug of tea. "I had a corporate career as a lawyer. I enjoyed it, but I wanted more. I needed the entire 360 experience—home, kids… I’ll go back to practicing part-time when the kids are older."

"And you’ll be fine with that?"

"It’s all about balance, Amelie." She smiles, "Once they are old enough to leave home, I am sure I’ll go back to practicing full time."

"And you don’t see it as a compromise?" I head back to the couch, drop into it.

"For whom?" She chuckles, "I have it all, as far as I can see."

And I have nothing.I twist my fingers together in front of me.

Her features twist, "Hell, I didn’t mean it that way. The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings by rubbing in my..." she circles her hand, "...all this, in your face."

"You’re not." I lean forward and touch her knee. "Honestly, you aren’t. I appreciate your giving me the time to recover, and for the clothes."

"Anytime." She takes my hand in hers, "I like you, Amelie."

I laugh, "You’ve known me all of two seconds."

"I go by my gut, and unlike my brother, I actually heed what my instincts tell me."

"Too bad that idiot McDick has no such inclinations.” I take a deep breath, "Well, I guess I need to head off."

"Where will you go?"

"I need to call my friend Isla, make arrangements to stay with her. I also need my clothes, which are—"

"Stay here."

"What?" I attempt to withdraw my hand, but she doesn’t let go. "I mean it," she says. "Stay with me, as my guest. We have the entire floor, and the guest room is free.

I stare at her, "But—"

"We’d love to have you."

"You don’t need to say that..."

"I never say anything I don’t mean." Her features take on a haughty look, one so familiar, one I’ve seen on his face. Shit, staying here, surrounded by his family, where their every action would remind me of the man I need to try to forget? No, just no. Not that I don’t like Kirsten, but… To be so near him, and yet, not with him? Gah. I’d have to OD on chocolates to get through the ordeal, and that’s definitely not something I can afford, not if I hope to get through the festive season with some semblance of a waistline.

"Thank you," I turn my palm over and clasp hers, "but no thank you."

Her lips droop. She peers into my eyes, then lets out a breath, "There’s nothing I can do to convince you, huh?"

I shake my head.

"One night." She lowers her chin. "Stay for dinner tonight, meet Liam and Patrick."

I frown, open my mouth to decline, and she drops her gaze to my pajamas. "You owe me."

"You don’t play fair, do you?" Just like him.

"It’s genetic. Our father ingrained the habit of negotiation at the dining table, I’m afraid."

She rises to her feet.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"To get your things from Weston’s suite."