The Millionaire's Christmas Wife

She climbed aboard and set her arms at his waist, his jacket thick and cushiony. They didn’t have far to travel. Her hair didn’t even get messed up. “You owe me a real ride sometime,” she said as they climbed off.

“Deal. I have several snowmobiles for my business. We’ll plan a day trip. How’d it go?” he asked quietly as they headed into the building.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

“It’s bad?” he asked, his voice instantly tense.

“You two want to stay for dinner?” Ed asked, poking his head out the door at them as they neared.

“We have to get back to Sacramento tonight,” Gideon said. “But thanks for the offer.”

Twenty minutes later they loaded the model in the car and headed out, with about a half hour of daylight left.

“So?” he asked.

“She might recognize me, once she thinks about it some more.” She told him what had happened. “It’s not like I was a movie star, where people might still be watching videos of me or something. I should be gone from the public’s memory. But there’s no guarantee.”

“Well, we can’t do anything about it except hope if it would make a difference to her that she doesn’t make the connection until after the deal is done.” He reached over and laid his hand over hers. “Were you in a panic?”

She sniffed. “I never panic.”

He smiled. “Good to know.”

“Even though I learned today that I’m a skiing fanatic—which I’m not, by the way—I’m extremely close to my family, I’m happiest at home and I want four children?”

He looked a little contrite. Just a little. “Did I tell her we wanted four children?”

“Apparently so.”

“Sounds like you covered well.”

“Maybe. She frowned a lot at some of my answers, so I had to backpedal. I’m sure I came across as ditzy.”