Chapter 29
MERRY
She stormed forward, pushing open the door and blinking hard, just needing to get away before she did something more than throwing her bag at his face. Even the fact he’d caught it before it bumped his stupid, perfect nose made her blood boil.
“Were you?” His voice cut through the wind.
She stopped dead.
“What?” she asked, without turning.
“Were you actually happy?”
Now she turned, slowly, shaking her head in angry disbelief.
“Seriously?” she spat. “That’s your defence? That I wasn’t happy enough before you came along, so it’s fine that you lied to me?”
“No.” He held her gaze. “It’s not fine that I lied to you. I hate that I did and I wish that I could rewind our time together and tell you who I am from the first moment we met. I can’t do that. But don’t lie to yourself, Merry. You say you were happy . . . but you didn’t seem it.”
She opened her mouth, ready to throw more words at him like sharp stabby knives in his stupid puppy-dog eyes, but none came.
“You are many thing, Merry,” he went on. “Brilliant. Capable. Fierce. Hot as hell. But happy? You looked like someone who’d built a life that didn’t quite fit and convinced herself to shrink into it.”
Her eyes burned but she felt her shoulders slump at the weight of his words. “You don’t get to say that.”
“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know. The only reason I could see it in you is because I’ve been lying to myself too. And the only time I’ve ever felt real was when I was with you.”
Merry blinked rapidly. Her breath caught and, for one awful second, she thought she might cry again. But she held back her tears with a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “You should’ve just told me the truth.”
“I know,” he said again. “But I just wanted to make you happy and my fake self seemed to do that quite well. And then I was in too deep and didn’t want to burst the bubble by telling the truth.”
Her first instinct was pure, white-hot fury. How dare he stand there and poke holes in her reality after everything he’d done? How dare he decide that lying had been better for her? But the anger got tangled up in something else. Something that hurt more than thinking about Christian’s lies.
She thought of her roommate, Clare, always leaving the groceries and the bills to her, always crying over some boy or having loud sex with another while Merry soothed and sorted and swept the pieces up behind her.
She thought of the smiling, grateful shoppers who clung to her service and how she gave and gave until she had nothing left at the end of each shift.
She thought of the carefully worded emails to her parents, the money transfers, the bright emojis masking exhaustion.
Was Christian right? Had she been happy or was she just really good at pretending?
Christian stepped closer, tentatively, as though he was approaching a wild cat. “You deserve better than a life you have to survive.”
She stared at him, torn in two, because he had lied. But he’d also seen her in a way no one else ever had. Merry shivered as the wind curled around them, tugging at the edges of her uniform, but it was nothing compared to the storm of emotion rolling in her chest.
Christian’s voice broke through it.
“When we spent time together, when you smiled at me, laughed at my jokes, I know it wasn’t because of my name,” he said.
“Or the fact that my father owns this place. It was me you liked.” He took a step closer.
“And for the first time in my life, that mattered more than anything. I loved the fact you had no idea who I was and still wanted to spend time with me.”
Merry swallowed hard.
“The date at Bryant Park,” he said softly, eyes locked on hers. “That wasn’t fake. Not for a second. I loved every minute of that night. The lights, the music, even the damn rain. God, Merry, I loved touching you, kissing you.” Another step closer. “I still do.”
Merry’s heart twisted. She didn’t know if she wanted to run or scream or fall into his arms. Instead, she stood perfectly still, fighting the war inside herself.
Christian shifted, rubbing his hands together, his breath misting as the cold air whirled in through the open door and the first flakes of snow started to fall beyond.
“Look, it’s freezing. We don’t have to stay here,” he said gently. “Come with me to my hotel. It’s just around the corner. We can warm up and talk properly with no interruptions.”
Merry stared at him, knowing that the old her would’ve said no and curled up behind a wall of pride to stew. But she was so tired of pretending and of always carrying everything alone.
“No Ninja Dragon Lady?” Merry said, with a tired smile.
Christian glanced behind him at the mugs on the table that Mrs Cradley had left for them. “No Ninja Dragon Lady. She surprised me tonight, though. I don’t think she’s all bad.”
As they made their way across the roof and back into the warmth of the tenth floor, Merry paused. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a faint glow spilling beneath the velvet curtains of the grotto.
She slowed down, frowning.
“Everything okay?” Christian asked, glancing back.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Yeah, all good.”
She looked again, but the grotto was empty. It had probably just been someone locking up or a reflection from the night lighting. Still, as they walked on, she found herself glancing back one last time, wondering what she’d seen.
By the time they reached the hotel, her fingers were stinging and her cheeks felt windburned, as the snow was still falling in thick flurries.
The lights from the lobby spilled a welcoming gold across the pavement, and the doorman tipped his hat as Christian led her through.
Everything smelled faintly of polished wood and Christmas.
It was only when they reached the penthouse door and he pulled out the key card to usher Merry inside that she felt a jolt of realisation of what Christian really represented.
The suite was vast, with floor-to-ceiling windows, a fireplace flickering gently in the corner, a towering tree in the window dressed in snowy whites and deep emeralds. The lights were low and warm.
“And now I get to see how the other half really live. Now I’m even more embarrassed about my frozen-on-the-inside windows.” She let out a low whistle.
Christian laughed. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Merry. Some people would pay a fortune for that kind of air con. This suite is a bit much, but you looked like you needed somewhere soft to land.”
God, she really did.
She followed him to a bathroom that was bigger than her whole apartment, and paused in the doorway as he lifted a glass bottle from beside the claw-footed bathtub. “Would a bubble bath help that landing?”
“Abso-freaking-lutely,” she said, with no hesitation.
She knew they had important things still to talk about, but right now, Merry needed a little space to process what had happened — and for once she wasn’t going to let her own stubbornness stop her from doing what she actually wanted.
So, ten minutes later, she was sinking into a giant marble tub, surrounded by clouds of lavender-scented foam, her sore muscles sighing in relief.
The snow-covered city glittered beyond the steamed-up windows and, in here, all was quiet and safe.
When she stepped out, wrinkled and happy and wrapped in the kind of fluffy white robe that felt like being hugged by a marshmallow, Christian was waiting for her, looking freshly out of the shower himself.
His hair was damp and tousled and he was wrapped in a matching robe, tied loosely at his waist. From the delicious smells wafting around the suite, it looked like he had also been busy ordering them some room service.
“Hey, you,” he said, lifting the silver lid off a tray as she padded through to the living area. “I thought you might not have eaten at the buffet, given what happened.”
Merry stared wide-eyed at the tray. There were sliders, truffle fries, what looked like a tiny mac and cheese in a copper pot and a chocolate tart with a glossy top that looked indecent.
“You’re incredible,” she murmured, pulling on the robe and sinking into one of the sofas as Christian waited on her hand and foot. “This is incredible. Is this a normal night for you? Room service and bubble baths bigger than pools?”
He shook his head, smiling, and brought her plates of food, poured her a cup of camomile tea and, as he came to sit beside her, Merry felt like a cloud had lifted. And maybe that’s why the words finally came.
“I send most of my money home,” she said quietly, picking at a fry.
“My sister’s health isn’t great and my mum is her full-time carer so she can’t do paid work.
Dad tries his hardest but he’s spinning plates that are old and cracked and are going to smash to the floor, so I send them what I have because they don’t have anyone else. ”
Christian didn’t interrupt, though he did steal one of her truffle fries.
“I always tell myself it’s fine,” she went on.
“That I’m lucky to finally have a job that pays okay, that I like the customers, that I’m good at it.
But sometimes, when I go home at night, it’s like I vanish.
I eat and sleep and wake up to do it all over again.
I feel like I don’t really exist outside of helping other people. ”
He nodded slowly, eyes on hers. “You don’t need to help me, Merry. We can be a team. Equals.”
Her throat tightened as she looked around. “I can try to be equal to this, but you still lied to me and I need to know that I can trust you.”
“I did lie.” His voice was full of regret.
“And I’ll spend however long it takes to make that up to you and earn back your trust. But Merry .
. . I meant every second we spent together.
I promise you that was real, and I really don’t want to lose that, especially now I’m staying in New York indefinitely.
You can trust that I’m still Christian. Just a guy who loves cheesesteaks and scruffy clothes and who is learning to love Christmas again.
Let me help you for a change. Give over some of that control you cling to and let me be in charge of all your worries. ”
“I’m not sure I can,” she said quietly, fear spiralling in her chest. “I still have to send money home. My sister’s care isn’t cheap, and my dad .
. .” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s not like I can just stop.
They need me. And what if my roommate stops paying the bills if I don’t keep prompting her? We’ll get chucked out, and then I—”
Christian smiled gently and put a hand on Merry’s arm, stopping her from sinking further. “Merry, breathe. I know all of this is scary, but if I’m not allowed to help you now that I’ve outed myself as a secret billionaire, then honestly, what was the point of the whole dramatic reveal?”
Despite herself, she let out a choked laugh.
“I mean it,” he said. “I’m not trying to rescue you or take over your whole life. But I am trying to stand beside you. You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore, Merry. Not if you don’t want to.”
Her heart fluttered, traitorously hopeful at the idea she wasn’t having to choose between duty and joy.
“Why me?” she asked, half-expecting the penthouse suite walls to fall down around her to reveal a hidden camera show.
Christian smiled, a slow, crooked thing that made her stomach dip.
“Well,” he said, “you did headbutt me the first time you ever met me. There’s a very real chance I’m still concussed.”
She let out a startled laugh, and he moved closer, eyes steady on hers.
“But also because I’m falling for you, Merry Sinclair,” he said quietly. “And I want you to feel like it’s Christmas every day when you’re with me. Good Christmas, the one you deserve.”
“Does that mean you’re a gift I’ll get to unwrap every day too?” Merry asked, feeling a little cheeky now she was warm and fed and happy from her head to her toes.
Christian stilled. Then, slowly, he set down his whisky, eyes darkening in a way that sent a ripple through her whole body.
“I really hope so,” he murmured. “But just so you know, once you unwrap me, there are no returns .”
Merry laughed, but it caught in her throat as he leaned forward and slid his hand behind her neck, thumb brushing her jaw, and kissed her. He kissed her like he already knew every inch of her and couldn’t wait to relearn it all, detail by delicious detail.
“You sure about this?” he asked, voice husky.
Merry nodded, tugging gently at the belt of his robe. “I know we’re a few days early, but I think it’s time I opened my present.”
That was all the invitation he needed. He scooped her up in one swift motion and carried her towards the bedroom with a grin that melted her bones. And, as he laid her gently on the bed and leaned in again, all Merry could think was that maybe Christmas wishes really do come true.