A Dream Christmas. Кэрол Мортимер

a jerk-nugget, Jay.’

      Just what he needed, his baby sister putting a flea in his ear. Oh, joy! James turned around and glared at his slender long-limbed sibling, leaning against the balcony door as if she were a part of the furniture. And she normally was—just not today; probably not tomorrow either. ‘I really have to change the code to my lift.’

      ‘Whatever. I just left Riley, who was bawling her eyes out.’

      ‘I told her that I wanted to be with her.’

      ‘You told her that you wanted to date her, you moron! What the hell were you thinking?’ Morgan demanded.

      He’d forgotten what a good handle Morgan had on sarcasm, James thought, shoving his hand into his hair and tugging. ‘I don’t have a cooking clue.’

      Morgan came onto the balcony and tightened her coat around her slim waist. ‘Riley told me about your fight, about Liz, about what happened between you because, you know, Riley and I tell each other everything.’

      ‘Like that’s news,’ James muttered, leaning his elbows on the railing and looking down on the mostly deserted Central Park.

      ‘You’ve always had a lot to live up to, James—the family name, the fact that Dad abdicated as CEO and left us to travel the world, appearing now and again to play Dad. You became my hero, the man I relied on … through all my issues, I leaned on you. There was enormous pressure on you to take over as MI CEO, to achieve, to be seen to be achieving. Because of the Moreau name and all of that. You never failed, James, at anything.’

      ‘I failed with Liz.’

      ‘Pfft. She’s wasn’t a failure; she was a lucky escape.’ Morgan looked him in the eye, their identical eyes clashing. ‘You never failed … except with Riley.’

      Why didn’t she take a gun and shoot him between the eyes? ‘You failed her, James. You failed her ten years ago when you didn’t give her space to breathe; you failed her by running off to Liz; you failed her every time you slept with her and pretended that she was another one-night stand. You failed her six months ago and, boy, you seriously failed her four days ago. But I’m here to tell you that it’s grovelling time, bro, because if you don’t you’re going to regret this every single freakin’ second for the rest of your life.’

      He was already spending every single freaking second missing her and calling himself a fool.

      ‘And I will also get my ex-SAS fiancé to kick your ass until you do start grovelling.’

      She would too.

      ‘It’s simple, stupid. You love her; she loves you.’

      Could it really be that simple? James thought on a surge of hope.

      ‘She can make you happy, Jay,’ Morgan softly said.

      ‘She already does,’ he admitted.

      When he was with her, every day was Christmas, every day held that same expectancy that something extraordinarily special was about to happen. And then it would, either by her smiling or cracking a comment or sliding her hand into his. Special didn’t have to be big, he realised; it just had to be Riley.

      ‘You’d be crazy, and stupid, to let her go. And Christmas won’t be Christmas without her,’ Morgan said, her tone mournful.

      James yanked his baby sister into his arms, hugging her tightly. ‘I know. I’ll fix it, Morgs.’ He had to—he’d always loved her; would always love her. He wouldn’t leave New York, wouldn’t go back to Bon Chance without Riley … he wouldn’t spend another moment without her. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without her—hell, his life wasn’t a life without her. He needed her, craved her …

      Morgan sniffed. ‘Promise?’

      ‘Promise.’

      So how are you going to get her back, champ? He had a couple of nights until Christmas Eve. You didn’t leave a hell of a lot of time to figure this out. James dropped a kiss on Morgan’s head before leading her inside and out of the icy wind.

      ‘I’m still changing the code on the lift,’ he told her with a small smile.

      Morgan’s grin was the essence of mischief. ‘Okay, you can, but if you manage to get her back Riley will just tell me what it is so you might as well save yourself the hassle.’

      ‘Point taken. Oh, and Morgs? I need to put you to work.’

      CHRISTMAS EVE, RILEY THOUGHT, sitting at her desk in her basement office. Six o’clock and she was very, very alone. She’d packed up her office, taken down the colourful prints and had arranged for the maintenance department to have the office repainted back to a boring white in readiness for her replacement.

      Whoever that was …

      Not her problem, Riley reminded herself, and she had far bigger issues than that.

      She’d thought she was so clever, thought that she could handle James and what she felt for him, could deal with being his friend. She’d thought that she could slip quietly into a new life but instead she was tumbling into one with a broken heart and a severely battered and miserable soul.

      She was done with love, with men, with James … Oh, dammit, more waterworks! Would they ever stop?

      Riley pulled on her coat and gloves and frowned when her desk phone rang. Her staff were long gone, there were no projects in progress at the moment; most of the staff in the building had left many hours ago. She picked up the handset and lifted it to her ear.

      ‘Miss Riley? Security here. I’ve just had a report that someone has messed with your windows in the jewellery store.’

      Oh, no … hell, no! She might not be employed by MI any more but those windows were her designs, her baby. No one fiddled with her windows, she thought as temper rose up to close her throat. Ever!

      Riley belted up the stairs to the lobby of the MI building and skidded down the hall, frowning as the security officer waved her through the security checks all the Moreau staff endured daily. Not stopping to question why she was receiving a free pass, she belted out of the door, sucking in her breath as a few fat snowflakes hit her face. When had it started to snow? And who cared anyway? What was wrong with her windows?

      Ignoring the snow, she pushed her way through the crowds and walked down the wet pavement, thankful that she was wearing her boots and that she wouldn’t slip on the wet, sludgy surface. Jeez, the snow was really coming down now … Riley pushed past a tall man in a black overcoat to look at whatever had happened to her windows.

      She blinked at the dark window showing the Bon Chance display. It was solidly black. What was going on? Riley put her forehead against the freezing glass, cupped her hands around her face and narrowed her eyes. In the low light of the street lamps it looked as if nothing had changed—there was the messy table and Morgan and Noah in an embrace—and the lights appeared to be the only problem.

      Probably just a fuse, she thought—easy enough to fix. She turned around to head back to the jewellery store and James stepped into her line of sight, his blond head collecting snowflakes. Her knees threatened to collapse and she couldn’t get air into her lungs.

      ‘Breathe, honey,’ James ordered, his eyes focused on her face. Eyes that were worried but not flat, hesitant but not empty.

      ‘You turned the lights off … What have you done to my window?’ she muttered, swiping a snowflake off her cheek.

      James nodded and the lights in the window flicked back on. Riley turned around slowly and scanned her display, immediately noticing her little mouse, now sitting on a dinner plate, a whopping big diamond ring between his tiny paws. The diamond shot cold fire in her direction and looked like it had more carats than a vegetable garden. She recognised that ring, remembered seeing it on Granny Moreau’s bony finger …

      ‘You moved my mouse,’ Riley accused, not knowing what else to say.

      James