The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas

“Try it with these.” He unfastened the clip and motioned for her to turn around.

Her hand went to her throat, fingering the rich jewels. “Are they real?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Jack—”

“I said, don’t worry about it.” He managed to get the delicate clasp fastened.

She turned, and her cheeks were delightfully rosy. “I can’t let you—”

“Put these on.” He handed her the earrings.

Biting down on her lip, she slipped them onto her ears.

The sales clerk appeared. “Pumps or open toes?” she asked Kristy, holding up two pairs of shoes.

Kristy glanced at Jack.

He pointed to the pumps, and the sales clerk produced a pair of sheer black stockings to go with them.

He backed up to sit down on the chair again. “So now let’s see the whole thing.”

Kristy took a deep breath, but she went back into the change room without complaint.

“We’re at the Bellagio,” Jack said to the sales clerk. “Could you see if their salon will have time to do her hair tonight?”

“Certainly,” the sales clerk answered. “Anything else?”

Jack glanced around. “The black dress. A negligee—something elegant, soft, with some lace. And maybe an evening purse?”

The woman smiled. “Right away.”

While Kristy had her hair done, Jack bought himself a requisite suit at one of the hotel shops. Then he sat through an exquisitely torturous evening, hearing her laugh, watching her smile and seeing her move beneath that shimmery gold dress.

At the end of it all, he handed her the package with the negligee and all but ran into his own room. He didn’t know what it was, but something inside told him to keep his hands off for tonight. He used every ounce of his willpower to stay in his own bedroom instead of begging her to make love with him.

But then Sunday dawned, and she was wearing jeans, and it was much safer around her in the daylight.

They joked their way through a tour of the Hoover Dam, then had a late lunch on the deck of a Lake Mead marina and took a sunset boat tour. By late evening, they were just off the Strip, walking hand in hand, absorbing the energy of tourists and partiers.

Suddenly Kristy stopped dead, tugging on Jack’s hand. “Oh, my God.”

He quickly scanned the crowds around them, looking for trouble. “What?”

“Over there. A gypsy fortune-teller.”

Jack shook his head, and reflexively backed away from the sign where she was pointing. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.” She pulled hard on his hand, dragging him toward the gaudy, flashing storefront. “We need an update on your golf course. And I’ve never done this before.”

“And you don’t need to do it now.” Three was definitely a crowd. He didn’t need any distractions tonight. He was trying to think of a quiet spot back in the hotel, rehearsing over and over in his brain how he’d propose.

Not that he expected her to say no. Well, he supposed shecould say no, since she already had Cleveland’s offer on the table. And wouldn’t that suck for Jack’s ego?

He shook that thought right out of his head. All things being equal, Kristy should prefer him over his grandfather. After all, she seemed to like hanging out with him, and she got all his jokes.

Still, he was unaccountably nervous at the thought of popping the question.

Luminitsa the Gypsy—Your Future Revealed, proclaimed the glass door.

“Kristy,” Jack protested, but he couldn’t bring himself to physically stop her.

Bells jingled as she pushed opened the door.

He blinked to adjust to the low light.

The room had an orange glow, candles flickered on most horizontal surfaces, and the walls were covered with tapestries, bright-colored scarves and Celtic drawings. A woman with huge earrings, eyelashes a mile long and a silk kerchief wrapped around her head, emerged from behind a beaded curtain.

“Come in. Come in.” She motioned with wrinkled, ring-bedecked hands to a small, round table.

Kristy eagerly slipped into one of the folding chairs, while Jack hoped humoring her in this wouldn’t take too long.

He glanced at the walls until he saw the gypsy’s price list. Then he handed the woman a fifty for the shortest reading she offered.

She waved her silver rings at him. “You, too. Sit, please.”

Jack clunked into the other chair with a sigh.

“You are a skeptic,” she said, arching one brightly painted eyelid.

“You could say that,” he agreed.

Kristy nudged him with an elbow. “Ignore him,” she said to the woman.

Luminitsa nodded, jangling her hoop earrings with the motion.