Fairytale Christmas with the Millionaire

Hugo’s confused expression shifted as comprehension dawned. The fact that she had to explain the excitement of Christmas to him reinforced all her beliefs about the real Hugo Harrington. He wasn’t the romantic, sensual man who inhabited her daydreams. He was a hard-nosed businessman, a guy who didn’t have time for family, who didn’t understand the meaning of the word family, a man who lived to work.

Well, she didn’t live to work. She couldn’t. Her mom may have been able to move in with her to help care for Noah when Josh died, but it wasn’t the same for her little boy as having a dad. Erin knew that she had to be both mother and father and she refused to abdicate that responsibility...the way Josh had.

She closed her eyes briefly, hating that she felt that way. After all, her late husband hadn’t asked for the heart attack that had taken him.

Thoughts of Josh rippled through her, her despair over his death, the sense of betrayal that came when she learned he’d been sick for months and hadn’t told her—but he had confided in a woman he’d worked with. She’d told Erin that Josh had believed he was saving her the heartache of knowing her husband was dying while she was pregnant.

But good as his intentions might have seemed, not only had he confided in another woman, proving she and Josh didn’t have the deep, wonderful bond Erin had always believed, but also they rang hollow as she’d stood at his graveside, ready to have his baby, without the opportunity to say goodbye.

She could have cried with him. They could have absorbed the first waves of loss together. Made videos of him laughing for their son. Made videos of him teaching Noah the kind of things a father longs to share with his child—

“You don’t have any other clients, do you?”

She forced herself back to the present, to her discussion with Hugo Harrington. Sexy man with a heart of stone. Maybe that’s what had reminded her of Josh?

“It looks to me like you can’t afford to lose me.”

Not about to give up Christmas with Noah, she sat taller. “I have other clients. Especially in December.”

“But not clients who pay you as much as I do. Scattered Christmas parties. Grand openings. Not clients who pay a fee over the norm.”

She took a breath. Part of her wanted to bluff her way through. The other part didn’t like lying or even hedging. Josh hadn’t out-and-out lied, but he’d kept a secret that had leveled her. She would never, ever again lie, distort the facts or omit anything.

She would face the truth. Always.

“You are my biggest client.”

“Then let me suggest a compromise.”

She brightened with hope. “I could supervise the project from New York?”

He chuckled. “No. But I could fly your son and your mum to London with you.”

Her breath stalled in her chest. The casual way he’d called her mom “mum” hit her oddly. He did not sound like always proper Hugo Harrington. For a few seconds, he was the man in her fantasies. Not a businessman. Not a keen negotiator. But just a guy.

A handsome guy with chestnut hair and intriguing gray eyes—

“You may not be able to take your son to see Macy’s Santa, but we have Santa in London. And wonderful shops.” He caught her gaze. “Think of it as an opportunity to show Noah a more diverse Christmas.”

She blinked, trying to see the real Hugo Harrington—the businessman, not the guy who suddenly seemed family friendly—as his idea of her mom and Noah going with her to London tickled her brain and began to take hold.

“I won’t put you up in a hotel. I’ll find you a flat. A place you can decorate with a tree and garland. And I’ll make sure you leave work in time to tuck your son into bed every night.”

She stared at him. She knew she did a good job for him. So it wasn’t outlandish that he’d want her for a project with a looming deadline. And showing her son more of the world than one little corner in New Jersey appealed to her on so many levels. Noah would see one of the most beautiful cities on the planet, experience new traditions. She could teach him to think wider, beyond himself—

It was a generous offer from a guy who normally wasn’t this kind.

Skepticism rose. “I’d still get three times my usual fee?”

He frowned.

She smiled shrewdly. “You can’t take back something you’ve already offered.”

He rose. “Sure I can. This is a negotiation.”

And the real Hugo Harrington was back.

“Yeah, well. The way I see it, I have to pay staff extra to compensate for the fact that I won’t be around to supervise my bread-and-butter projects in Manhattan.”