Christmas With The Billionaire

Christmas With the Billionaire

Susan Stephens

Published by Susan Stephens

Copyright 2014 Susan Stephens.

Cover by Josephine Piraneo of GlassSlipperWebDesign.com

Copy for the couple on the cover is held by Shutterstock

ISBN: 978-1-910604-02-1 eBook-Mobi

ISBN: 978-1-910604-03-8 eBook-ePub

Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

All Rights Reserved.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at:
[email protected]

www.susanstephens.com

Carole, for your friendship and support, and the
 

good times we have.
 

Lynn, Linda and Pam, for your generosity of spirit.
 

And Jo, I can never thank you enough for reading my mind.

Chapter One
 

Okay. She could do this.

Kate Black stared up at the gleaming façade of 1, Royal Buildings and braced her capable shoulders. Even at first light on a winter morning, with snow drifting down, London’s premier apartment block was impressive. From chambermaid in rural Yorkshire to house sitter for a member of the aristocracy in central London, she’d taken quite a leap, but the agency she’d signed on to had begged her to fill in for them when another girl let them down last minute, so here she was.
 

Nothing could be as hard as digging sheep out of snowdrifts in the middle of a blizzard on her parents’ farm in the North of England, Kate reflected. She hoisted her bulging carrier bags full of Christmas gifts from her family onto her shoulder and wheeled her case forward. She hadn’t come to London to be crushed by insecurity, but to make her parents proud. Sheep farming was a tough life, and once she graduated college and was on a decent wage, she was going to help them out with extra money where she could.

“Can I help you?”

She jumped to see the uniformed doorman giving her a disapproving look.
 
Fair enough. She was littering up his entrance. Gleaming glass doors without a fingerprint to be seen, sitting atop an impressive claret-colored mat with a crown emblazoned on it, hardly agreed with her battered suitcase and the shabby outfit she’d pulled together with a ratty scarf. Who could blame him for staring down his nose at her?
 

With a bright smile, she advanced. “Hi—” She extended her hand in greeting. Which he ignored. “I’m Kate Black?”
 

His lack of reaction was a concern. She tried again. “I’m here to house-sit for Lady Vallender over the holidays?”
 

From his expression she guessed he knew nothing of this.
 

“I have a letter...” Shifting her bags around, she delved into the pocket of her coat. “Here—” She held it out to him. “Suite forty-four?” she added hopefully when he continued to block her way. “The floor just below the top floor...?”
 

“Morning Sir!”
 

She staggered back as the doorman brushed past her to swing the door wide. And froze when she recognized his visitor.
 

The tall, dark man stopped on the threshold in the shadows, where he looked more saturnine than ever, if such a thing were possible.
 

“Morning, Jack. Problem?” he questioned in a deep, commanding voice.

She would have known him anywhere from his many interviews on television, and his photographs in the press. Jason Kent, entrepreneur, financial pundit, sex god—the world’s so-called most eligible bachelor was now the man barring her way.
 

Suited and booted in the finest tailoring that molded his powerful body to perfection, Kent looked as if he might be fresh from a business meeting. He certainly had the expression of the cat that got the cream. Perhaps he’d just sealed one of those billion-dollar deals he was so famous for, Kate mused, transfixed by his dark, probing eyes.

He really had the compelling navy-blue stare they talked about in the press, and sweeping ebony brows that, together with his chiseled cheekbones and thick, jet black hair, gave him the look of a barbarian from the plains... Genghis Khan, potentially—

“Can I help you?”
 

In so many ways.

Her foundations rocked at the sound of his voice.
 

“The young lady is just leaving, sir,” the doorman hurried to explain.
 

“No, I’m not. I just arrived.”
 

Kent’s stare sharpened. “What do you want, Miss...?”

Lifting her chin, she stood her ground. “Ms. Black. Ms. Kate Black. I’m expected. The agency sent me. I’ve come from the North of England to house-sit for Lady Vallender.”
 

The doorman blinked, while Jason Kent remained impassive. Neither of them moved to let her in. No problem. If there was one thing she’d learned wrestling sheep up on the moors, it was that you didn’t back down until you got the result you wanted.
 

“You can leave this to me now,” Kent told the doorman.

“Yes, sir.” Jack all but saluted. “If you’re quite sure, sir?”

“I think I can handle it,” Kent said dryly.

Oh, could he? She wasn’t some fragile female to be brushed off. She was a sturdy farmer’s daughter—who had to admit she was totally disarmed when Jason Kent took hold of her arm and ushered her into the warmth.
 

“Lady Vallender’s apartment?” he queried pleasantly. “It’s immediately below mine.”

Well, this was what she’d been waiting for—a bit of friendliness—and, she was in the building. So far so good...
 

“Thank you. I’m grateful for your guidance,” she said politely, wishing he hadn’t let her go quite so fast, but she was grateful for his assistance with her bags, which he had swept up before she could stop him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all?

Her body tingled with appreciation as they waited side by side for the elevator to arrive. She risked a smile when the doors slid open.
 

“As of today, I own this building,” he said, towering over her like the barbarian she thought him. “As your new landlord, I’ll take this opportunity to remind you that large gatherings and noisy parties are expressly forbidden here.”
 

She sucked in a breath to fire back in return, and then remembered that one word: landlord. “Not my apartment, Mr. Kent,” she said steadily. “Is that all?”
 

Thankfully, they’d reached her floor. Conscious of dark eyes narrowing, she grabbed her bags and squeezed past him, bursting with relief into the blissful calm of an empty corridor.
 

Nursing a mug of coffee to keep her hands warm as the snow drifted down, Kate leaned over the balcony of the beyond fabulous apartment that was hers for the holidays. She was overlooking Oxford Street, the busiest thoroughfare in London, especially during Christmas.
 

And the most expensive, Kate reflected wryly, pulling back. She wouldn’t be able to afford a closet in a place like this, but it was great to have the opportunity to house-sit such a fabulous apartment and get paid for it. The money she earned from this job would cover her college expenses for another term, and all she had to do was keep the apartment neat and clean, and care for the owner’s cute little yappy dog.
 

As she bent down to make a fuss of the dog that had stuck to her like glue since she’d arrived, she guessed he spent a lot of time with strangers. “That makes two of us,” she said wryly, stroking his ears as she thought about the unaccustomed solitude ahead of her over Christmas.
 

Her course was hotel management, which she loved. Working as a chambermaid in Yorkshire to pay the fees had brought her into contact with so many interesting people. She had thought it would be the same in London, but she’d been here a week now and hadn’t spoken to a soul, apart from Jack, the doorman, who had grudgingly given way to her bluff country ways. The cleaners always stopped for a chat, but apart from them she hadn’t talked to anyone properly.
 

And Jason Kent?
 

She hadn’t seen him at all. Thank goodness. Not that she hadn’t craned her neck to see if he was standing on the balcony above hers, which was where he’d said he lived. So far no sightings. She had run into other residents in the elevator and the lobby, but unlike the village where she came from, where everyone said hello, the people here stared straight ahead and pretended not to see her. She had tried taking the initiative, and sometimes received mumbles in return, sometimes not even that.
 

You’ve only been here a week. Give it time.

How much time? She’d had these big plans to hold a party to bring everyone in the apartment block together on Christmas Eve, until Mr. Tall and Brooding had said no parties. Hospitality was what she’d grown up with. Her family shared everything at Christmas, and loved nothing more than to invite their far-flung neighbors to the farmhouse for a good time, but so far there’d been no takers here, except for Jack the doorman, who had surprised her by saying he would love to come.
 

Just because Kent was a killjoy didn’t mean she had to become one too, Kate reflected. She’d invite him. How simple was that? If everyone knew Jason Kent was coming they would rush to accept.
 

Cheered up by this thought, she pushed invitations through every mailbox in the block. With one notable exception: the top floor. The penthouse floor. The apartment owned by Jason Kent. She’d changed her mind. Who invited Genghis Khan to a party? Kent wouldn’t come anyway. He thought himself far too important.
 

But it was hard to believe there wasn’t one person in this whole block who wouldn’t jump at the chance to celebrate Christmas with some new friends. If she were to stand in the window of the department store opposite and pan a camera over the building, life had to be teeming inside. She just had to root it out.
 

Meanwhile, it was freezing out on the balcony—

“Hello?”

A quavering voice called her back. Stunned to hear a friendly greeting, she turned to see an elderly lady bundled up in scarves and a woolly hat, standing on the adjoining balcony. “Hi!” Kate’s face broke into a smile. “I’m Kate Black, house-sitting for Lady Vallender.”
 

“Lily Montcalm,” the spry senior called back. “Sitting out Christmas with my very own bird’s-eye view on the world.”
 

“And I’m Keith.”
 

Incredulous wasn’t the word for it—nothing for a week, and now this?
 

Leaning over the balcony, she stared down at the floor below. “Hi, I’m Kate.” She looked up. “And this is Lily...”
 

“Pleased to meet you both,” Keith called back. “I’m installing a new kitchen while the occupants of this apartment are away.”
 

“Neville,” a gruff voice added to the chorus.
 

Kate doubted she had ever felt such a rush of optimism. This was like being in the middle of a Christmas movie where miracles actually happened.
 

Neville was a stiff-looking man in a suit and tie, whom she’d seen from time to time in passing, and guessed worked long hours in the city. He always looked so grey and haggard, as if he were constantly trying to catch his tail. He’d never so much as uttered a sound to her before, and was already looking as if he wished he hadn’t drawn attention to himself.

“This is the only time we ever communicate,” he admitted awkwardly. “Christmas—on the odd occasion when a couple of us find ourselves out on the balcony at the same time.”

“Well, merry Christmas,” Kate called back. “To all of you,” she added warmly. “I hope you’ll—” She was just about to invite them to her party, when her neighbors retreated inside.
 

Oh well. Hugging herself, she stared down at the brilliantly decorated street. Packed with last-minute shoppers, it looked such an exciting place to be. In the short time she’d been in London she’d grown to love the hustle and bustle. It was such a contrast to the silent splendor of the Yorkshire moors where she’d grown up.