The Unexpected Gift: A Billionaire Brother’s Best Friend Christmas Romance Read online

  The Unexpected Gift

  A Billionaire Brother’s Best Friend Christmas Romance

  Nicole Casey

  Copyright © 2017 by Nicole Casey. All Rights Reserved.

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  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  Book Description

  The Unexpected Gift

  I only return home from my missionary work in Moscow for one reason: collect a cash donation for the starving children from my wealthy brother, Matthew.

  I didn’t expect to meet my brother’s best friend and business partner, Nick again.

  He’s more mature now, with broad shoulders, perfect abs and a gorgeous face. And when I get to know him more, I am surprised to find that I’m absurdly attracted to his attentiveness and generous heart.

  Is falling for him the biggest mistake in my life? And what if he finds out there is an unexpected gift for both of us for Christmas?

  Contents

  Prologue

  10 Years Ago

  1. Nick

  2. Eva

  3. Nick

  4. Eva

  5. Nick

  6. Eva

  7. Nick

  8. Eva

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  EVA

  The scent of firewood burning intermingled with pine and apple spice made my heart twinge in that familiar way; a bursting combination of melancholy and deep-rooted joy which the season brought forth with it.

  Despite the inherent desire to be happy during the Christmas holidays, I could not help my mind from venturing back to a place when I had more than the love I had almost lost and fought so hard to keep.

  Shouldn’t it be enough?

  Why do I hurt so much for something I haven’t touched in a decade?

  It seemed that every year, my heart grew a bit heavier, knowing that the gap was ever growing without the chance of reconciliation coming to fruition.

  Does he still think about me? I asked myself. Does she know about me?

  I was at the stove, bent at the waist, peering at the cookies which seemed to be taking forever to rise but that was likely because I had been fixating on them since they went in.

  For a man of his stature, he moved like a fox, stealthily and silently to push himself up against me, startling me into a jumping position.

  “Nick!” I gasped. “You scared me!”

  “Were you expecting someone else?” he teased, kissing my neck lightly and I immediately felt myself fall back against him, relishing the warmth of his broad chest against my back.

  I sighed silently, enjoying the contours of his muscular frame. His body always seemed to fit perfectly into mine as if he was built for me specifically.

  It would make sense if he was, given the odds we had overcome to be together.

  I inhaled sharply as he squeezed me tightly.

  His touch could always melt away my most overwhelming lachrymose.

  “Are you finished for the night?” I asked hopefully but he sighed, kissing the top of my head.

  “No, sweetheart,” he replied regretfully. “You know I’m nowhere near done.”

  It was a naïve question but one spawned by longing.

  I didn’t want to be alone anymore, even though I knew he was only a few hundred feet away.

  But he’s working and not to be disturbed, I reminded myself. He’s as good as on a different planet right now.

  He spun me around, towering over me by six inches, his bright blue eyes studying my face.

  No matter how many times I studied his profile, the same flutter tickled my heart as I watched him.

  The love I felt for him would never die.

  I did not know if I could claim the same from him.

  “You’re thinking about Matthew,” he said, sadness lacing his words.

  Instantly, I felt regret, nodding my head as I looked at the ground. It was just so obvious that I was still thinking about my brother.

  It was not as if I wanted to bring it up on such a festive occasion, but it wasn’t my fault I was always bombarded with memories when the snow began to fall, and I was left to my own devices.

  “You should reach out to him,” Nick told me, trying to hide his disappointment. “Send him an email, a – “

  “No,” I interjected quickly. “If he cared, he would have reached out by now.”

  Nick gently tucked a stray strand of hair back into my loose blonde bun and smiled sadly.

  “We both know it’s not that simple,” he replied quietly. “I think it’s about time you tell him about us, Eve. It’s been years.”

  I stared at him, my thoughts a jumble of confusion.

  He can’t mean that! I thought, staring at his face in shock. Telling Matthew would ruin everything!

  “Wipe that stricken look from your face,” Nick said softly. “I knew when we started this incredible journey that this day would come. If you don’t contact him, I will. It’s time, my love.”

  I tried to swallow my dismay, but I knew arguing would only arouse his suspicions.

  “The cookies are burning,” I murmured, reluctantly squirming out of his arms and turning back to my baking.

  The smell of gingerbread overtaking all others told me that it was time to remove the goodies for cooling.

  “I have to get back,” Nick announced as if sensing I didn’t want to further the discussion, but I knew he would not leave the subject alone.

  How could he? I had inadvertently put a damper on every Christmas with my weepy eyes and depressed sighs.

  But this year would be different.

  Before Christmas fell on our snow-capped household, one of us would send word to Matthew about where we were and what we had done.

  And in turn, Nick would learn of what I had done.

  Matthew might find it in his heart to forgive me, but Nick never will. And then where will I go? Who will I be if not the other half of Nick?

  I had tried to be someone without him once and that had not turned out well for me.

  I hadn’t thought my husband had noticed my heavy heart, but he had. Of course he had. I knew who I had married and despite his overwhelming work load, he saw me.

  No matter how good I thought I was at hiding my feelings, he had always seen me.

  I pulled the cookies onto a rack on the counter and yanked off my oven mitts, pausing to stare out into the slowly falling flakes outside the window.

  I searched for an answer in the endless piles of snow stretched out as far as the eye could see in any direction.

  It had been ten years since I had seen them.

  Nick was right; it was time to face my lies and pray for a Christmas miracle.

  10 Years Ago

  1

  Nick

  As I hunched over the designs sprawled haphazardly about my desk, I realized that my eyes were burning.

  I had been staring at the same piece of paper for twenty minutes and while it was nearing midnight, I could
not entertain the idea of sleeping.

  A dozen concepts needed to be approved by morning and there were flaws in every sketch I examined.

  I asked myself again why I did this work.

  The answer evaded me.

  “George?” I yelled. “George, are you still here?”

  He better be, I thought, gritting my teeth angrily. If I had to suffer through the holiday crunch, everyone else was going to endure along side of me.

  I didn’t consider myself a demanding boss but when we were on a deadline, everyone worked until it was done.

  As if absolving me of my slight guilt, my intern assistant arrived, calling me by my first name as we insisted all our staff do.

  Well it had been at my insistence. My partner preferred to be referred to as “Mr. Jameson.”

  “Yes, Nick?”

  George appeared appearing much brighter eyed than he should have and I idly wondered if he hadn’t taken a cat nap at some point during our fifteen-hour day.

  It was irrelevant; he was there when I needed him and that was all that mattered.

  “I need espresso,” I informed him, flopping back into my chair. “Maybe three of them.”

  George’s face seemed to freeze in its smile as he realized my words meant we were no closer to going home than we had been three hours earlier.

  “Yes, boss!” he replied, spinning to oblige my order. I heard the feigned chirp in his voice and stifled a sigh.

  “George,” I called after him.

  “Yes, sir?” he replied and suddenly I read the tiredness on his ebony face.

  He worked harder than any of the other interns in the firm and he did so with a beam.

  He probably works harder than half the executives in this company, I thought wryly.

  I knew I was going to regret what I was about to do but it was so close to Christmas and the man had a young family.

  “After you get back from the espresso machine, you can go home,” I said, almost choking on the words.

  George’s mouth gaped open and he stared at me as if I had emitted a long string of profanity.

  “Sir?” he asked, his dark eyes wide.

  I nodded and turned my head back to the pages on the table before me.

  “Just make sure you’re here by seven tomorrow. I am going to be in meetings all day and I’ll need all hands on deck.”

  “Yes sir! Thank you so much!”

  I pretended not to notice his naked gratefulness, a small spark of shame touching my gut.

  This wasn’t George’s company, after all. He shouldn’t have to run himself ragged when the CEO had a hard time justifying such inane hours.

  I’m working him too hard, I thought but before I could dwell on the idea, a figure came hurrying toward my office in long strides.

  He wasn’t so much a figure as he was a fixture, dressed in a five thousand-dollar Armani suit, his silk tie knotted to perfection even though he had been in the office as long as I had that day.

  “Have you seen this?” Matthew demanded without preamble, dumping a pile of papers atop my disorganized structure.

  I grimaced my disapproval but wisely said nothing about the intrusion.

  “Probably,” I replied, glancing at the figure. “Is this the report from last quarter?”

  “It’s what the accountants are claiming is the report for last quarter,” Matt snarled. “We’ve taken a four percent plunge!”

  I shrugged knowing no matter how I responded, my business partner would find a way to counter it.

  We had gone to University of Washington together, both of us graduating summa cum lade.

  Our friendship had been instantaneous although we often vied for the same women, competed for grades and generally had a healthy sibling rivalry relationship.

  Matt truly was the brother I had always wanted and I think he felt the same way about me.

  When we started Kinetic Designs seven years earlier, neither one of us had been prepared for the way the company had taken off.

  We doubled our net worth in the first year, quadrupled it by the fourth and both became billionaires by the end of fifth.

  It had been hard to believe that we were living the dream so intensely in such a short period of time.

  I found the rush to success unnerving in a way, enjoying the benefits but never really forsaking my middle-class roots.

  Moreover, I didn’t want to forget where I had come from. My dream was to put my money where my mouth was and do better with my fortune.

  Matt, on the other hand, jumped right into the high life as if he’d always belonged there.

  “Four percent isn’t terrible,” I told him. “We went through this last year when we expanded. Our costs rose because of – “

  “You don’t need to spell it out for me, Nick,” he cut me off. “I know why it dropped but I don’t understand how. We can’t afford this.”

  I laughed aloud, noticing that George had returned with my coffee. I waved him inside.

  “Mr. Jameson,” George said hesitatingly but Matt held up his hand, not to be interrupted.

  “What are you laughing at?” he snapped at me.

  “We can’t afford it?” I echoed. “We can afford a four percent drop if we’re going to recoup it back tenfold in two quarters.”

  “Mr. Jameson,” George said again, looking urgently out the glass doors.

  “How can you guarantee that?” Matt demanded, ignoring the intern. “Things are so up and down.”

  I stared at him in amazement.

  “What is wrong with you?” I asked. “It’s a few bucks.”

  “It’s my few bucks, dammit!” Matt screeched, and I felt a smidgen of worry as I watched his face.

  He’s becoming greedy. Two years ago, he would never have been so bent out of shape for such an insignificant drop, not when we turn such an excellent profit.

  “Matt!”

  This time we both turned to look at the younger man, irritation in our eyes.

  “What is it?” Matt demanded. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?”

  George picked up his finger and pointed, causing us both to turn and stare.

  My mouth dropped open and I wondered if I was hallucinating.

  A stunningly beautiful woman stood in the corridor, staring about nervously, wringing her hands as she peered toward us.

  I could make out the luminous green of her eyes even with the distance between us.

  It wasn’t the fact that it was after midnight which made her appearance so unusual nor was it her ethereal attractiveness.

  The fact that she wore a long grey smock not unlike a nun’s was what shocked me the most.

  “That woman is looking for you,” George muttered. “I told her to wait in the reception area – “

  “Oh my God!” Matt cried, spinning to meet the woman.

  I stood frozen, still captivated by her fair beauty.

  Her hair was long and blonde, uncovered by a habit and she was as pale as moonlight on the water.

  “Who is that?” I asked, my voice catching slightly as I continued to gape. There was something elusively familiar about her, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  George seemed just as captivated by the woman as me, but he cast me a sidelong look.

  “She claims to be Matthew’s sister,” George replied, his black eyebrows rising in dubiousness. “But she looks more like ‘a sister’ if you ask me.”

  Understanding flooded my bones and a small sigh of disappointment escaped my lungs.

  I knew exactly who the woman was, and she was completely off limits for more reasons than one.

  “Of course,” I murmured. “That’s Eva.”

  “She’s Matthew’s sister?” George asked dubiously, and I nodded, a strange heaviness in my heart.

  “She is both Matthew’s sister and a nun,” I confirmed.

  2

  Eva

  The decision I had made to return from Europe had not been taken lightly. In f
act, I had dreaded the thought of landing in Seattle despite the insurmountably long sixteen-hour flight with one layover.

  If I could have willed the plane to stay in the air, I would have done it happily.

  I hadn’t been home in seven years, not since I had begun my missionary work with the church and I had no idea how Matthew would receive me, especially considering what I wanted from him.

  Still, I knew our options were few and the children were depending on us.

  They are depending on me. After all, I am the only one with any ties to money.

  As our resources had depleted, the money running dry, all eyes had turned to me as news of my brother’s success reached the ears of the nuns.

  “You should write him and ask for a donation,” Sister Kate urged. “Surely a man in his position would be happy to help the starving children.”

  But I had not been so sure.

  How could I be? I had no idea what Matthew was like anymore. I had nothing on which to gauge his personality but the emails we sporadically shared.

  We were six years apart and had never been exceptionally close. We were more like polite strangers than siblings.

  Yet I knew from experience that Matthew Jameson had not been big on sharing as child. I did not have high hopes for his generosity in adulthood.

  “I can’t simply write him for money,” I sighed. “I will have to go to Seattle and meet with him.”

  “Do whatever you must,” the sisters agreed. “And when you return, we can discuss you taking your vows again.”

  There were more words to cause me anxiety but ones to worry about later.

  It was late when I arrived at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport and I had not forewarned Matthew of my impending arrival.