The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas
“What do you want?”
“Domestic bliss.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“If this is about money—”
“This is about fashion.”
He rolled his eyes and made a sound of disbelief deep in his chest.
Another figure emerged from the hallway. “Thereyou are.” Cleveland strode across the foyer, his hands outstretched.
Jack jerked back in reaction.
“We were getting worried,” said Cleveland, scooping Dee Dee out of Kristy’s arms and planting a dry kiss on Kristy’s cheek.
“Gramps,”Jack interrupted.
“Did I forget to mention Kristy was coming?” the old man asked Jack, his face a picture of innocence.
Kristy didn’t buy it for a second.
Then all of Cleveland’s attention turned to Dee Dee. “There’s my sweet Pookie,” he cooed, holding the dog aloft and letting her lick his nose. To Jack he said, “Don’t just stand there, my boy. Get the suitcases.”
“She’s not staying,” Jack quickly put in.
“She is. She’s your wife.”
“This isn’t a joking matter. If she moves in—”
“I’ve offered Kristy the use of the workshop above the garage.”
Kristy watched Jack’s eyes narrow, small creases appearing in the corners. “Why?”
“To prepare for the Breakout Designer Contest at the Matte Fashion Event in London. Sierra Sanchez is sponsoring her.”
Jack shot Kristy an accusatory glare.
The man could certainly be intimidating, but she refused to back down. She wouldn’t, not after coming this far. Still, she didn’t want to fight in front of Cleveland. So she arranged her features in a picture of naïveté. “Would you mind showing me to my room?” she asked Jack.
“Great idea,” said Cleveland, tucking Dee Dee into his arm like a football. “By the way, Nanette and I have called it quits. She’s keeping the ring. And the Ferrari as a matter of fact.”
With that, the older man strode from the foyer.
Jack’s dark gaze bore into Kristy. “How did you do it?”
She couldn’t resist. “The same way Nanette did it?”
“Kristy,” he growled.
“I showed him my clothes, Jack. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“This family is my business.”
Okay. She wasn’t going to do this. He was one powerful and sexy man, and he clearly wasn’t used to being crossed.
Not that she was crossing him. Quite the contrary. He was the one who’d crossed her. But she suspected it would be a cold day in hell before he’d admit it.
She tipped up her chin. “I think I’ll check out the workshop. I’ve got a lot to do.”
“This is about revenge, isn’t it?”
She barked out a cold laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. If not for the career opportunity, I wouldn’t have given you another thought for the rest of my life.”
She was lying. She’d lain awake four nights running remembering him.
The workshop was a dream come true. Kristy had been expecting something dark and dusty, since it was above the garage, which was separate from the house. Instead, the room was bright and sparkling, with high ceilings and freshly painted white walls. A bank of windows lined one wall of the huge, rectangular room, while fluorescent lights gleamed off the hardwood floor. It had five oversized, white-topped tables, at least a dozen utility chairs, several padded stools and a long bank of closets stretching from one end to the other.
While she struggled to keep her jaw from dropping open, Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me again how this isn’t about revenge.”
She snapped herself back to reality. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“I’m the one footing your bill.”
“Your grandfather’s footing my bill. He’s also the one getting revenge.”
Jack drew back in surprise. “You’re Gramps’s revenge on me?”
“Either that or I’m a brilliant fashion designer. Take your pick.”
Jack gave a snort of disbelief.
“Thanks so much for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m going with the mathematical odds.”
“Well, I’d give it a thousand to one that I’m staying.”
“You can’t stay.”
“Oh, yes I can.” She was planting her butt in this dream of a workshop and getting ready for the most prestigious fashion contest in the world.
“My mother will be here tomorrow.”
“So?”
“So, I amnot about to explain a wife over the garage.”