A Billionaire for Christmas

“I did it for your own good.”

“That’s always a bad thing!”

“Peyton Cabot should have helped you. He should have been there for you when you needed him. He’s an asshole for dumping you like that. Let him explain to the world why he did that.”

Down on the sunny street below, another white van topped with a satellite dish pulled up. “Beth, I need to get to the airport. A bunch of reporters are stalking the lobby of my building and standing in the street, waiting to ambush me. I can’t get out.”

“They shouldn’t be going after you. They should be going after Peyton Cabot and the rest of the Killer Valentine assholes.”

“The band is in France and Monaco on sabbatical. They’ve been lying low for months!”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“You should have! They’re after me, now!”

“I’ll come and get you,” Beth said. “I’ll stuff you in my trunk and get you to the airport on time.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Just finish packing.” Clattering filled the space behind Beth’s voice. “I’ll be right there. I’m on my way now. Those magazine bastards don’t stand a chance against me.”

Raji knew that she should be pissed as hell at Beth and probably should never speak to her again, but it was also probably true that Beth would spit fire at those celebrity-news reporters and send them running for the Hollywood Hills. Raji would bash this out with Beth after she got home from India. She wouldn’t be telling Beth anything secret ever again, though.

Raji balled up the last few clothes she was taking, flipped her last suitcase closed and locked it, and checked her purse again for her snacks, tablet, and passport.

Knocking thumped on her door in the living room.

“Coming!” Raji hoisted her purse over her shoulder and dragged her rolling bags behind her to the living room. The suitcases dragged in the doorway, and it took Raji three tries to find a way to get the luggage, her purse, and her enormous, pregnant belly through the doorway and into the living room.

Deep inside her body, the baby kicked some vital organ, leaving Raji gasping. Felt like a lung.

More knocking pounded on the door.

“I’m coming! Wait a sec!”

Raji dropped everything and staggered to the door. Beth could damn well help her carry some of this crap instead of beating on the damn door.

More pounding.

“All right! I’m coming!”

Raji flipped the locks and swung open the door.

The hulking, towering man had thick, blond hair that flowed past his shoulders, and his dark gold beard had grown in thicker.

For some ungodly reason, he was wearing a furred, red and white Santa hat.

Even if he had been bald or covered in rags or emaciated from illness, Raji would have known his striking, sea-green eyes anywhere.

Peyton dropped the black backpack he held in one hand. “Raji-lee, I came as soon as I could get here to protect you from them.”

Of course, he had.

Because Peyton always would.

Raji covered her face and burst into tears.Chapter Forty-ThreeA Misunderstood ElopementPeyton walked into Raji’s apartment and shut the door behind him. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m so sorry.” She covered her face with her hands, and her shoulders shook. Her clothes were different, more like traditional Indian clothes, a dark blue tunic that draped over the swell of her pregnancy. “I’m so sorry.”

Horror blew through him. “Raji-lee, you didn’t tell all that to the reporters, did you? I told them you didn’t, that it wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t tell anyone, anything,” she said. “I didn’t give them an interview. I didn’t tell them anything, but I am so sorry because it was all my fault.”

“How could it be your fault if you didn’t tell them?” Peyton touched her shoulder, unsure whether he should embrace her. They hadn’t seen each other in seven months. She hadn’t called or returned his texts.

“I told Beth, my friend, a person whom I thought was my friend, and she narced. I never thought she would do something like this. I mean, she’s muy loca, but who would do such a thing?”

Peyton’s heart soared that he was right, that he had defended the innocent this time, and that Raji didn’t hate him so much that she would sell him out to the reporters. That last part had haunted him the whole flight back. “What did you tell her?”

“Everything. Every bit of it.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Over the years.” Her voice was higher than normal because she was crying, each gasp driving pain into his heart. “When Beth was upset that I was hanging out with a bunch of rock star drug addicts, I told her no, you guys were mostly clean now. When she thought you would dump me and never call me again, I said no, you were cool, that you toured with your ex-girlfriend. When she thought that you would break my heart because you were still in love with Georgie, I said no, that you’d said she belonged with Xan and weren’t obsessed with her. I never thought she would do this. I’m so sorry.”