Christmas in the Billionaire's Bed

Maeve shook her head. “Dear Mia chose to have a baby via a sperm donor. When she and Dylan got together, he fell in love with little Cora. They make a beautiful family, don’t you think?”

Emma smiled wistfully. “They certainly do.” She had often seen Dylan and Mia and the baby out walking on afternoons when the weather was still warm.

Silver Glen was a small, cozy town, even though it boasted a strong tourist economy. Movie stars shooting on location often took up residence, as well as wealthy travelers who loved the peace of the mountains. The town’s alpine flavor reminded Emma of a Swiss village.

“There’s one more thing,” Maeve said, her expression cajoling. “Mia told me you’re not going home to England for Christmas, is that right?”

“Yes. I spent two weeks in September with my mother for her birthday. She’s handling the loss of my father better than I expected. And she has plans to tour the Greek Isles during the latter part of December with a group of her friends.”

“Then I want you to spend the holidays with us. Mia’s parents are coming only for the wedding itself. So I know Mia would enjoy having you around. We’re gathering for several occasions at Dylan and Mia’s home. My older son and his wife are still building their new house. And of course, we’ll have some special events up at the lodge, too. What do you think?”

Emma didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t afraid to be alone. In fact, her childhood had been solitary more times than not. She enjoyed the peace and tranquility of her own thoughts. And she was not a Kavanagh. Surely her presence would be awkward.

Maeve spotted a silver rattle and a matching small cup from the 1950s. “I knew I remembered seeing these,” she said triumphantly. “One of my college sorority sisters just became a grandma for the first time. This will be the perfect gift.”

As Emma rang up the purchase and took Maeve’s credit card, she wondered how large a wedding the Kavanaghs were planning. And then another thought struck. One that made her heart race.

“Will all of your family be able to attend on such short notice?” Emma had never actually confessed to Maeve that she knew one of her sons very well.

For the first time, Maeve lost a bit of her excitement. “I hope so. My third son, Aidan, lives in New York. We don’t see him all that often. And besides...”

She trailed off, her expression indicating that she had traveled somewhere unpleasant in her mind.

Emma wanted to know badly. “Besides what?”

Maeve’s lips twisted, her eyes shadowed. “Aidan had a very bad experience some years ago. It happened at Christmas. He comes home to visit, but not at the holidays.”

“And this wedding?”

“We hope he’ll make the effort, but who knows...”

What would Aidan think if he saw Emma ensconced in the bosom of his family? She hadn’t set eyes on him in a decade. Her original intent in coming to Silver Glen during the late summer had been to speak with him and bring some closure to what had been a painful time in their lives. She had hurt him badly, and she wanted to explain and make amends. But she discovered he no longer lived in the town of his birth.

Her recent birthday had brought home the fact that life passed quickly. Regret was an emotion fraught with negativity. After healing a decade-long rift with her father back in the spring, she had realized she wanted to move forward and to make better decisions than she had in her early twenties.

It was entirely possible that Aidan had not clung to the memories the way Emma had. She might be nothing more than a footnote in his past life. According to Maeve, he sounded like an entirely different person than the boy Emma had known.

The fact that Emma had chosen to settle in Silver Glen permanently had more to do with the town’s charm than it did with Aidan. But her initial motive remained. Even if her apology meant nothing to him, it would clear her own soul of lingering regret.

She couldn’t control his response. In fact, he might not even show up. But if he did, she was determined to do the mature, responsible thing and own up to her mistakes.

Emma wanted to grill her visitor, but she had already overstepped the bounds of polite curiosity. “I’m sure he realizes how important it is.”

Maeve gathered herself visibly. “You haven’t given me an answer. And I warn you in advance that I’ll only accept a yes.”

“Then I will say yes with pleasure.” And a healthy dose of trepidation.

“That’s wonderful, Emma dear. My invitation is selfish actually. Everything you say in that delightful British accent makes me want to listen to you for hours, but I have to fly.”

“I’d say you’re the one who has the accent,” Emma teased. “You, and the rest of Silver Glen. I’ve practiced my drawl, but it never seems to come out right.”

Heading out the door, Maeve shook her head, laughing. “Let’s face it, Emma. You’re the quintessential blue-blooded Englishwoman. Fit to marry a prince if Kate hadn’t snatched him up first. If you had a slow-as-molasses speech pattern, no one would ever believe you were an aristocrat.”

In the sudden silence created by the departure of her vivacious guest, Emma felt her stomach curl. She had known this day would come eventually. It was a major reason she had chosen to roost in Silver Glen. That, and the fact that the town reminded her of the cheery Cotswolds village where she had grown up.

Sooner or later, Aidan would appear. If not at Christmas, then in the spring. The thought of seeing him face-to-face both elated and terrified her. She knew they were far beyond second chances. Too much time had passed. His life experiences had no doubt changed him, especially the tragedy to which Maeve alluded. Too many turns in the road. But Emma wanted to speak her piece. And she would make him listen.

He deserved to know that she had loved him beyond reason and sanity. That his leaving had nearly destroyed her.

Perhaps she was kidding herself. Aidan might not even remember her. Maybe she had magnified the importance of their university romance. Aidan had come to Oxford the fall semester of his senior year for a term-abroad experience. He had literally bumped into Emma on the street in front of a pub frequented by students.

They had both laughed and picked up their books and papers. Aidan offered to buy her dinner, and that was that.

Her heart actually clenched in her chest, the pain of the memories still fresh after all this time. Would he look the same? Would he think she had changed?

And what was she going to say to Aidan Kavanagh when she saw him again?

Two (#ulink_bd746411-80ca-5974-984c-9b9f8eb1568d)

Aidan braked carefully and rolled to a stop in front of the courthouse that reigned over the town square. Darkness had fallen swiftly, proof that they were nearing the shortest day of the year. All around him, buildings were decorated in lights...some twinkling white, some a rainbow of colors.

New York City loved to deck itself out for Christmas. But nothing about Christmas in the city was as disturbing as this. As if it were yesterday, he remembered Danielle’s delight when he first brought her home to spend the holidays with his family. She had loved the decorations, the town itself and the fresh snow that had fallen.

At least this year the roads were dry. Even so, the image of a long-ago snowball fight brought a small smile to his lips. Danielle had approached everything about her life with the enthusiasm of a puppy.

He was surprised and grateful to find that at least a few memories of their last days together were good ones.

Glancing at his watch, he knew he had lingered long enough. Though Dylan and Mia had invited him to stay with them, Aidan preferred the privacy of a hotel room up at the lodge. Then, it was nobody’s business if he couldn’t sleep.

His mother had a nice condo in town, though his oldest sibling, Liam, still had a suite with his wife, Zoe, at the Silver Beeches Lodge. They were in the process of designing and building their dream home, but it wouldn’t be finished until the following summer.

Liam would be sleeping with one eye open, waiting to make sure that Aidan showed up safely, even if it was almost 3:00 a.m. Why can’t you fly down here like a normal person? he had complained.

Aidan wondered that himself. The grueling hours on the road were supposed to have prepared him for his upcoming ordeal. Well, hell, that was a little too melodramatic. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been back to Silver Glen time and again after Danielle was gone. But only once at Christmas. And then only to see his brother in the hospital and make sure he was okay. A little fruitcake, a few packages and as quickly as he could manage, he had returned to his home in New York.

This trip, however, there would be no reprieve. Maeve had already warned him that she expected his presence at an assortment of events and activities. Her third son had strayed beyond her reach, and since she had wrangled his presence via the unexpected wedding invitation, she planned to make the most of it.

Aidan put the car in gear again and cruised around town slowly, expecting at any moment for a cop to pull him over and demand an explanation for his nocturnal prowl. Things looked much the same as they had during his last visit. Except that his brother Dylan’s pride and joy, the Silver Dollar Saloon, was once again open for business.

When Aidan had come home for the long 4th of July weekend, the Silver Dollar was still being repaired and renovated after a fire in June. Fortunately, no one had been injured, but he’d heard more than one person bemoaning the fact that the town’s most popular watering hole was closed indefinitely.

He looped back toward the square, passing Silver Screen, the community’s one and only movie theater. Way back in the forties and fifties, someone had decided all the stores in Silver Glen should be named with the theme of silver. As a marketing ploy, it was brilliant.

The town had grown and prospered, drawing visitors and business from all over the country. Despite his unease, Aidan found himself feeling distinctly nostalgic for this charming valley that had been his home for twenty-plus years.

As he turned the car one last time and headed for the narrow road that would take him up the mountain to the lodge, his headlights flashed across a darkened storefront that didn’t look familiar. Silver Memories. From what he could see of the window display, the merchandise appeared to be antiques.

He frowned, almost positive that the last time he’d visited, this particular spot had been a leather shop. Operated by an ornery old guy who made saddles and guitar straps to order.