Christmas with the Maverick Millionaire

He stood up, his legs still a little shaky, and walked to the door.

But it was too late. Tyres squealed as she disappeared into the night.

* * *

She couldn’t think straight. She was so angry. It was her own fault—his too. But she’d been delusional to think there was ever a chance of anything happening between them when the guy obviously didn’t trust her.

The tears started rolling down her cheeks. What on earth was she going to do? It was after midnight on Christmas Eve. She was in Austria. She didn’t have any friends here. There wasn’t exactly anywhere else for her to go.

The road signs loomed before her. Airport. Yes. Where else could she go? There would still be flights, and the one thing she was sure of was that she had her passport in her bag.

She turned the wheel and put her foot on the accelerator. It was time to get away from here. It was time to get away from Mitchell Brody.

It was time to get on with her life.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘THIS HAD BETTER be good, Mitch, it’s three o’clock on Christmas morning.’ Mitch bristled at Dave’s words. He hated having to do this.

‘I need a lift. In fact, I just need the car.’

‘You’ve got a car.’

‘I don’t. Samantha took it when she left.’

‘She left? Where has she gone?’

‘I don’t know.’ He sagged against the wall and listened to the monster-size groan at the end of the phone.

‘You idiot. What have you done? She was the best thing that’s happened to you in years.’

He tried to swallow the huge lump in his throat. Dave was one of the only people on this planet who would speak to him like this. But it was exactly what he needed. ‘I know.’ He struggled to get the words out. A thought flickered into his brain. ‘She hasn’t appeared at your place, has she?’

‘Not yet she hasn’t. And I doubt she would. If you’ve upset her I’m probably the last person she wants to see.’

‘But where on earth could she be?’ He was sounding desperate and he knew it. ‘She liked the skating rink—maybe there? Or the Christmas tree in the square?’

‘Are you nuts? Have you any idea what the temperature is out there? This is the worst night of the year to try and find somewhere to go. Everywhere is closed for Christmas.’

He squeezed his eyes closed. ‘You’re right.’ Worry was beginning to wash over him. She was out there. Alone. And it was his fault.

‘Where would you go in a foreign country after a fight with a fool of a man?’ Dave clearly wasn’t going to forgive him for this. ‘Did she take anything with her?’

‘Just her bag.’

‘So she has the car and her handbag, which might contain her passport?’

His eyes opened. ‘Do you think she’s headed to the airport? But she doesn’t have her suitcase, she doesn’t have her clothes.’

Dave sighed. ‘I think we can safely assume she’s not caring about any of that right now. Give me ten minutes. I’ll pick you up. And, Mitch?’

‘Yeah?’

‘We’re not done talking about this.’ He hung up the phone.

Mitch almost smiled. Dave was going to blast him all the way to the airport and back. But he didn’t care. He just hoped she was there. He just hoped she was safe.

His eyes fell on the little blue-wrapped box next to the phone. The present he’d bought her. The one he’d spent nearly an hour deliberating over. He’d wanted to give it to her tonight once they were back from St Jude’s, but he’d forgotten all about it.

He turned the little box over in his hands.

Would she like it?

Would she talk to him again? Would she even agree to see him again?

He had no idea.

But one thing was crystal-clear.

He was willing to spend the rest of his life trying to find out.

* * *

The short-stay car park was the most expensive at the airport. But Samantha was determined not to think about it. Once she was back in the UK, she’d phone Dave and let him know where to pick up the car.

She hurried across the concourse in the airport, her footsteps echoing all around her. The place was virtually deserted with only minimal staff in place. There was a tired-faced woman behind the desk of the most popular UK airline. ‘Do you have any flights back to the UK?’

The woman nodded and smiled wearily. ‘There’s one taking off at six a.m.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘You can buy a ticket for the next fifteen minutes. After that, there isn’t another flight until five p.m.’

‘I’ll take it.’ She pulled her passport and credit card from her bag, trying not to recoil visibly as the woman said the price out loud.

/>

It only took a few minutes to process the payment and print out her paperwork. Samantha smiled thankfully and turned to look across the airport.

It was almost as if all her energy suddenly started to leave her body. She’d been running on pure adrenaline, and there just wasn’t any left. Her shoulders sagged and her legs started to shake. She walked to the nearest seat and sat down for a few minutes, trying to pull herself together.

It was easier to lean forward, her head almost between her knees. But she couldn’t get comfortable, the thick, bright blue jacket limiting her movements. In a last spurt of frustration she tugged the jacket off. The airport was warm so there was no need for it in there, and even though she’d loved the jacket, it was another reminder of Mitch. She emptied the pockets and stuffed it in the trash can next to her.

It would be cold when she got back to the UK, but she’d worry about it then. For now she didn’t need anything else to remind her of how much she’d screwed up here.

She didn’t want to wear something that he’d bought her. The very fact that she’d allowed him to buy her anything now stung like a scorpion. If she could possibly have refused her salary for the last few weeks, she would have. But any day now she’d need to make another payment to her mother’s nursing home. This wasn’t just about her. Like Mitchell, she had responsibilities.

That thought made her breath catch in her throat. His financial responsibilities were every bit as important to him as hers were to her. She could understand that, she could. There was nothing she wouldn’t do in order to keep her mother in the best place possible.

‘You really don’t want the jacket?’

The bland words sent a shard through her heart. She couldn’t help but sit bolt upright. She was almost afraid to turn around, afraid of where the next steps would take her. Because the last few had been difficult enough.

But she didn’t need to. Mitchell walked around in front of her, kneeling down until their faces were on a level. He tugged at the sleeve of the jacket still sticking out of the trash can. ‘It’s a pity, you know, it really is your colour.’