Читать книгу Her Christmas Temptation: The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas / What She Really Wants for Christmas / Baby, It's Cold Outside - Debbi Rawlins - Страница 14

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.

She’d also created a sexy wisp of a dress, dark green from the casino, with diamonds of lace inset in the sides. But the crowning finale, the one she couldn’t wait to finish, was a dramatic red charmeuse silk evening gown. It was strapless, with a tight bodice and a straight full-length skirt. She’d sewn tiny triangles of lace into the hemline, flouncing it out with crinoline to mimic the roulette wheel.

She sighed.

Maybe someday she’d see one of these on a runway.

“Hey, Kristy?”

Before Kristy could react, Sinclair was through the door and into the workshop.

“There you are,” said Sinclair.

Kristy shifted in front of the collection, hoping her sister wouldn’t notice it. “I knocked on your door this morning,” she told her sister.

“I guess I slept in.”

“What happened? Did you two stay up late fighting?”

Kristy and Jack had left Sinclair and Hunter in the great room with mugs of liquor-laced hot chocolate and in the midst of a ridiculous debate about dating etiquette.

“I won pretty quick,” Sinclair told her, her gaze sliding to the clothes. “What are those?”

Kristy blocked her view even further. “Just … uh … something I’m fooling around with.”

Sinclair went around her.

“They’re great,” she said with genuine enthusiasm, lifting the green dress on its hanger and holding it against her body. “Very sexy.”

“These, over here, are the ones for the show.” Kristy tried to direct Sinclair’s attention to the Irene collection.

But Sinclair wouldn’t be distracted. “You made all of them?” She put the green dress back and switched to the waterfall dress.

“I did,” said Kristy. “But, these ones—”

“Are boring,” said Sinclair, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Why not take the good ones to London?”

Kristy raised her eyebrows at the ludicrous suggestion. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve had expert help with this collection. And it’s the one Cleveland and I made the deal on.”

“So, tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

“I can’t change my mind.”

Sinclair traded the waterfall dress for the crop top. “Then tell Jack you’ve changed your mind.”

“I can’t do that, either.”

Jack didn’t respect her skills or her talent. He was only going along with having her in the contest because Cleveland had forced him.

“You’re sleeping with him, right?”

Kristy didn’t know what to say to that.

Sinclair watched her closely, then her voice took on an unnatural calm. “Right, Kristy. Because he is your husband.”

Kristy blinked like a deer in the headlights.

Sinclair plunked the crop top back on the rack. “Damn it,” she swore. “I hoped he was lying.”

“Huh?”

“Hunter, dear sister.” Sinclair paced in a semicircle around Kristy. “Your cousin-in-law told me your marriage was a sham.”

Kristy opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“He said Jack only married you to save his grandfather from a fortune hunter.”

Kristy recognized the angry crackle in Sinclair’s familiar blue eyes. She’d hated deceiving her sister.

“Am I not your partner in crime?” asked Sinclair.

Kristy struggled to frame a response.

Then a note of real hurt crept into Sinclair’s voice. “Why would you lie to me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to have to lie for me.”

“To Mom and Dad?”

“Yes!” It was a choice between bad and worse.

“I’ve been lying to Mom and Dad for you since we were born.”

“Not like this.”

“What the hell happened?”

“I thought Hunter told you.”

“Not all of it.” Sinclair took a step forward. “He didn’t know why you said yes. Why’d you go and marry Jack?”

Kristy didn’t know.

She honestly didn’t know.

“There were helicopters,” she tried. “And dinner and dancing. Oh, Sinclair, you should see him in a suit.”

“You were hot for him? That’s it?”

“Totally,” Kristy admitted.

Sinclair laughed softly. “I can respect that. But you couldn’t have settled for a fling?”

“He proposed.”

“The rat bastard,” said Sinclair, but there was a wry grin along with the insult.

“As it turned out,” said Kristy on a sigh.

“So, now what?”

“Now, I put these away, finish the real collection and go to London and try to win that darn contest.” Kristy scooped two of the fantasy dresses from the rack and headed for the closet.

“Mistake,” said Sinclair, nodding to Kristy’s armload. “Those dresses are better. And he owes you.”

“Do you have any idea how much they’ve spent on me already? I’m coming away just fine from this deal.”

“Did you sign a prenup?”

“We are not going after his money.” Kristy transferred the evening gown to the closet.

Sinclair leaned to peer out the window. “That’s a whole lot of money, babe.”

“And it’s his, not mine.”

“Depends on the state.”

“I signed a prenup.”

Sinclair gave a sigh of disgust. “Did I teach you nothing?”

“This is not a scenario even you could have contemplated.” Kristy all but sprinted to the closet with the remaining items.

“What about future planning?” Sinclair called. “Self-preservation? Keeping your sister in the style to which she’s planning to become accustomed?”

Kristy latched the closet. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

“I could stay through the holidays, eat caviar, sip champagne.”

“I thought you said they needed you at work.”

“They do.”

“And we can’t both miss Christmas dinner.”

“So you get to stay here with the hunky husband and eat caviar and drink champagne?”

Kristy crossed her arms over her chest in mock censure. “You got your sights set on my hunky husband?”

“Not exactly. But did you get a good look at his cousin?”

“You fought with Hunter all night long.”

“Not the entire night.”

Kristy stared at her sister’s telltale expression. “You didn’t,” she whispered.

“Got a plane to catch,” sang Sinclair, turning for the door.

Kristy hustled after her. “What happened?”

“The hot chocolate was great. He was cute. And there was all that leftover adrenaline from skating.”

“So you jumped his bones?”

“It was more the other way around.”

“I don’t believe this.” Then a memory kicked in. “Oh, wow. You have red hair.”

“Yeah? It’s how most people tell us apart.”

“Plus, I’m taller.”

“A single inch. Get over it.”

“You slept with Hunter.”

Sinclair responded with a secretive smile.

“Is this in some way going to screw up my life?” asked Kristy.

“Relax,” said Sinclair. “We’re both grown-ups, and it was a one-time, impetuous thing.”

“You’re not going to call him?”

“Not in a million years. It wasn’t that good.”

“It was so.”

“Okay, it was. But I’m not going to call him. Quit worrying. Phone me from London. And take the cool clothes!”

“Fallen for your wife yet?” asked Hunter, sauntering into Jack’s study in the early afternoon.

For a split second Jack wondered if Hunter had found out about his phone call this morning to Zenia Topaz, and the huge favor he’d just called in. But then he realized his cousin was only fishing.

He pointedly opened a financial report on a beauty products company acquisition that Cleveland was considering. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Hunter shrugged, stopping in front of the desk. “I’m on holiday.”

“Then how come I’m not?”

“Because you’re a workaholic?” Hunter picked up a round, crystal paper weight and tossed it from hand to hand. “Or maybe it’s because you’re trying to keep your mind off a certain knockout blonde who’s making you crazy.”

Jack scoffed away the notion. “In case you haven’t noticed, that knockout blonde is married to me … and sleeping with me.” The last part was only technically true, of course. But Hunter didn’t need to know that.

“Back to my original question,” said Hunter, “have you fallen for your wife yet?”

Jack glanced back down at the spreadsheet, pushing aside images of Kristy asleep in his bed. “Absolutely not.”

Only a fool would fall for his bride of convenience. Naturally, he wanted to make love with her. Who wouldn’t? And he wanted her to succeed—as much for Sierra Sanchez as anything. But he was a long way from feeling more than lust, admiration and respect.

“If you’re sure,” said Hunter.

“I’m sure,” said Jack.

Hunter set down the paperweight. “The moms wanted me to remind you about the sleigh ride tonight. Seven sharp.”

“I’ll remember,” Jack assured him.

Hunter moved to the doorway and stood there for a moment. “Mind if Kristy rides with me?”

Jack felt as if he’d been punched in the solar plexus. He glance sharply at his cousin. “Yes.” Hell, yes. He bit back an order for Hunter to keep away.

A knowing grin grew on Hunter’s face. “Gotcha,” he exclaimed, backing out before Jack could form a response.

Not that there was any response Jack could reasonably form. Because Hunter was right to laugh at him. He was feeling entirely too possessive of Kristy. He was beginning to act as if she was his real wife. In fact, he was beginning to wish she was his real wife.

He turned back to the financial report, forcing the unsettling thought from his mind.

KRISTY SHOVED Sinclair and Hunter, and Sinclair’s cavalier advice from her mind for the day. She had more pressing issues, like struggling to perfect the Irene collection and watching the clock until it was time for Isabella and Megan to head home. She couldn’t wait to talk to Jack.

Jack.

She smiled just thinking about being held in his arms again. Then she got a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought about the holidays ending.

Christmas Day was rushing up on them. And she was leaving the day after that. She’d already filled out a dozen forms for London, and her trunks were being shipped at the end of the week. The collection would be sent on a transport plane to meet up with her at the event. Cleveland had insisted on buying her a first-class ticket, accommodations at the luxury Claymore Diamond Hotel and limo service to and from the airport.

As she closed the last of the cupboards and drawers, she heard bells jingling outside. Then footsteps bounded up the stairs and Jack stuck his head in through the doorway. “You ready?”

“For what?”

“A one-horse open sleigh.”

“Really?”

“Well, two horses. We’re going along the river trail.”

The harness bells jingled louder.

Kristy smiled to herself, forgetting about the end of their relationship, forgetting everything but the night stretching out in front of her. A romantic sleigh ride. What a perfect place to tell Jack she was on board, she wanted to pretend their marriage was real for a while.

“Let me grab my coat,” she said.

“I’ve got gloves and a hat waiting for you downstairs.”

Zipping up, she all but bounced down to the driveway where, to her disappointment, she noticed each sleigh held four people.

Cleveland, Aunt Gwen and Melanie were in the front sleigh with Hunter, while Jack and Kristy were riding with his mother and Elaine.

“You’re in for a treat,” said Elaine as Jack helped her up and over the lip of the sleigh. “The neighbors have a decorating competition every year.”

“I can’t wait,” said Kristy, swallowing her disappointment and pasting a smile on her face. “Hello, Liza.”

“I see you’ve been working hard,” Liza responded with formality.

“I have a lot to do,” said Kristy.

“I notice the jet’s been busy—”

“Mother,” said Jack, taking his own seat.

“I’m simply pointing out that Kristy has a fine selection of materials to work with.”

“That I do,” agreed Kristy, deciding to ignore Liza’s jabs. “Thanks to Jack.” She patted his thigh as he spread a plaid wool blanket over their laps.

He shot her a look of surprise. She kept her expression neutral as the horses stepped forward and the sleigh jerked to a glide.

Elaine and Liza were facing rear with an identical blanket covering their legs. A top-hatted driver sat up front on a raised seat, while two tawny-colored, golden-maned Clydesdales shook their heads and jingled the bells on their harnesses.

Settled against Jack’s warmth, Kristy accepted the delay in her seduction plans and sat back to enjoy the view of the Oslands’ gardens as they made their way toward the river trail.

Tiny white lights trimmed the branches of bare oak trees, while swooping ropes of color lined the hedges. Snow-covered spotlights gave the frozen fountains an incandescent glow. And, in the middle of it all, one huge pine tree sparkled color and shine all the way up to a golden star on top.

Kristy rested her head on Jack’s shoulder. In response, he stretched his arm across the bench seat behind her.

“I’ve been thinking about a party,” said Liza.

Jack looked at his mother. “I thought we were doing the big Christmas dinner this year.”

“I don’t mean a Christmas party,” she responded. “I mean a wedding party.”

Kristy straightened.

“People will expect something,” Liza continued. “Perhaps at the Club, after the holidays.”

“Mom, I’m not sure that’s a good—”

“Nonsense.” Liza interrupted. “You cheated Kristy out of a wedding.”

“It wasn’t him,” Kristy put in.

“You told me he talked you into the hotel chapel,” said Elaine.

Kristy glanced guiltily at Jack. She had decided to stick to the truth as much as possible. “But I wasn’t holding out for a big wedding.”

Liza and Elaine waited for her to elaborate.

“It was, uh, more the length of …”

Jack gave her shoulder a squeeze. “She couldn’t decide whether to settle for me.”

Kristy shot a glance skyward. “Nice, Jack.”

“What?”

“You just told your mother I thought you weren’t good enough.”

Liza’s lips pursed.

Elaine started to chuckle. “He’s not.”

“Yeah, right,” said Kristy, with an exaggerated sigh. “Handsome, rich, intelligent and funny. I guess I was holding out for somebody who could also—I don’t know—sing opera.”

Elaine laughed again, and even Liza smiled.

“I can sing,” insisted Jack.

“And that’s what clinched it, darling,” Kristy purred.

“Back to the party,” said Liza. But she seemed more relaxed now.

“Look,” Jack called, pointing across the river to a resplendent Santa display. The lighted reindeer swooped through the air. Santa’s sleigh was festooned with red and green and white lights. The jolly old man himself glowed with tiny red lights that outlined his suit and his sack full of toys. In the background was a lighted Christmas forest—each tree glowing its very own color.

“Nice,” said Kristy. “Times Square has nothing on you guys.”

“It’s most definitely a competition,” said Jack. “As far back as I can remember, the Smythes tried to outdo the Comptons who tried to outdo the Baileys and so on.”

“Has your family always spent Christmas here?” Kristy asked everyone in general, hoping to keep talk away from anything wedding-related.

“Since we were kids,” answered Elaine.

“Hunter’s family, too,” Jack said.

The horses made their way past discrete pot lights lining the pathway, moving toward the faint glow of the next property.

“How does your family celebrate, Kristy?” asked Liza.

“Our Christmases were nothing like this,” Kristy answered. “We had a house in Brooklyn. Nice neighborhood, plenty of decorations, even carolers—”

Jack took her hand in his beneath the blanket. His gaze caught hers, his eyes darker than usual, the muffled sound of the horses’ hooves and the muted snatches of voices from the other sleigh filled the sharp, sweet air.

A rich, steady burn started in the center of her body. It radiated out, fingers of heat licking at her skin. She wanted to tell him she was in. She wanted to tell him so, for now and for later, for as many days as they had left. They could laugh, kiss, make love and sleep in each others’ arms.

Another resplendent estate came into view.

Liza and Elaine craned their necks.

Unable to wait any longer, Kristy stretched up to whisper in Jack’s ear. “Yes.”

He jerked back, staring down at her with wide eyes.

She gave him a nod and a secretive smile.

He squeezed her hand. Then he pulled her close, the warmth of his body seeping deeply into hers.